Four Oaks
by highflyer101
Summary: AU Four Oaks Boarding School is the school for all warriors-that are human. My take on if warriors were human. Generations are all mixed up, but it's pretty easy to follow! Better than it sounds! T because it's a little more high-school than the book.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, this has been done like 1,000,000 times. I just love the idea! So here is my take on if the warriors were human! All generations are mixed up, so I can incorporate all my favorite characters and their best plot-lines! Of course, this is a little bit more high school-ey than the books were. Consider most family-ties undone, but a few stay the same. You'll be able to tell, don't worry. Lots and lots of BramblexSquirrel. But I still hope you like it! Review! Here's a list of the names:A/N: Hey! Before I do anything, I want to give you an updated… cast list, per say. So here it is!**

**Squirrelflight-Skyler Finlay (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Leafpool-Leah Finlay (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Firestar-Mr. Finlay (Head of school)  
>Sandstorm-Mrs. Sandra Finlay (History teacher)<br>Brambleclaw-Brandon Thomas (Junior) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Hawkfrost-Hesketh Thomas (Junior) (River Dorm)<br>Tawnypelt-Thalia Thomas (Junior) (Shadow Dorm)  
>Tigerclaw-Timothy Thomas (Former convict, but recently got out of prison on 'good behavior.')<br>Brackenfur-Bradley Happ (Senior) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Dovepaw-Daelyn Birch (Freshman) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Ivypaw-Ivy Birch (Freshman) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Tigerheart-Tarver Rowson (Sophomore) (Shadow Dorm)<br>Dustpelt-Mr. Dustin (Gym teacher)  
>Ashfur-Ashton Roberts (A senior that has been held back two times) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Lionblaze-Liam Mason (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Jayfeather-Jay Mason (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Hollyleaf-Holly Mason (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Cinderheart-Caliegh Brown (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Crowfeather-Crowell Smith (Junior) (Wind Dorm)  
>Feathertail-Fallon Greyson (Junior) (River Dorm)<br>Stormfur-Sam Greyson (Junior) (River Dorm)  
>Graystripe-Mr. Greyson (English teacher)<br>Nightcloud-Nicole Weston (Senior) (Wind Dorm)  
>Cinderpelt-Cindy Peterson (Senior) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Oakheart-Oakley Johnson (Senior) (River Dorm)  
>Bluestar-Blair Jackson (Senior) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Scourge-Scott Bledego (Tutor, no dorm)  
>Ravenpaw-Rawdon Smith (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Ivypaw-Ivy Burch (Freshman) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Brightheart-Bridget Hening (Junior) (Thunder Dorm)<br>Shrewpaw-Sean Mead (Sophomore) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Mistystar-Maya Sulley (Senior) (River Dorm)<br>Leopardstar-Ms. Leanne (Science teacher)  
>Blackstar-Mr. Black (Math teacher)<br>Cloudtail-Clark Tann (Junior) (Thunder Dorm)  
>Silverstream-Mrs. Greyson (School nurse)<strong>

**I didn't add Millie because I'm sort of a first love freak… And I totally love Silverstream and Graystripe. If I did, though, her name would be quite simple. Millie. And the prologue...  
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Four Oaks Boarding School had never been busier. Kids swarmed through the halls, schedules in hand. A collective buzz rushed through the school as students made their way to dorms. There were four dorms: River, Wind, Thunder, Shadow. Each student inherited a place in their dorm, or, in a few newbies cases, went through extensive testing to be fit with the companions that matched them the best. No one would ever admit it, but Thunder Dorm was the only one to welcome such imports. The rest were scorned. But that was high school, wasn't it? The place to find yourself, lose yourself, be yourself, hide yourself, cry yourself to sleep. A necessary obstacle that happened to be the gateway to the rest of your life. And not one second of it was focused on education.

The social structure was simple. Skyler Finlay, a mere sophomore, had managed to take over the school within seconds. Her auburn hair flowed down her back to her tiny waist, usually wrapped in a high-waisted skirt. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she spoke, and smoldered while she was thinking. Her perfect figure was the finishing touch to her thorough reputation as the slightly rebellious daughter of the headmaster. Guys loved her, girls loved her, once you heard her speak _everyone _loved her. So she easily obtained a spot as class president, and was the obvious choice for homecoming and prom queen titles. Her male counterpart, Oakley, was a whole two grades above her, and hadn't dreamed of her popularity. And people expected them to _date! _Then there were jocks like Liam Mason, Ashton Roberts (the idiot), Sam Greyson, Tarver Rowson, and Brandon Thomas.

Not that he was an acceptable friend, or anything. His father was awful. A total fugitive. Timothy Thomas always 'happened' to walk into little girl's changing rooms, or bring that one unbought item out of the store with his things. He had only recently gotten out of jail on good behavior, which, for all extensive purposes, was still bad behavior in the real world. Popular girls consisted very simply of Holly Mason, Caliegh Brown, Nicole Weston, Cindy Peterson, and Blair Jackson. Everyone else arranged themselves around at the bottom of the social pyramid. And so high school went. The first day was essential to anyone's social life. You had to figure out where you would sit for the rest of the year, make a first impression on everyone, etc. etc. Your dorm was very important too. You see, other dorms didn't… cross date. It just wasn't done. And they weren't friends, either. Since there weren't many other schools around Four Oaks, the dorms would play games against each other, and the kids were very competitive. Fights constantly broke out in the courtyard. It was kind of sad, really. But it was hilarious to watch.

**A/N: Do you like it? It gets better as it goes into character's lives; this was just a quick prologue. Okay, hope you loved it! eview please! As always, Warriors belongs to Erin Hunter, not me. Thanks!**

Retur


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello again! Here's Chapter One of Four Oaks! Hope you enjoy it, like always. As per request, Scourge is added to the characters! Scott Bledego is a new tutor who gets paid by Timothy Thomas to do some bad things… ;) This chapter is from Brandon (Brambleclaw)'s POV. Still don't own Warriors. **

_Bounce, bounce. _The basketball glanced off the floor and came flying into Brandon's face. He hit it back down easily and glanced at the clock. 6:45. He didn't know what brought him to the school gym when school wasn't even started, but he was glad to have it to himself. Junior year was a big deal to him. It was his chance to turn everything around. He didn't have to be that criminal's devil spawn who happened to be good at sports. He could be the captain of Thunder Dorm's basketball and football teams, and the guy that everyone went to with their problem. It was ambitious, he knew. But maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

It was strange to him that all the paranoia surrounding him got worse once his father got out of prison on _good behavior. _It wasn't like Lindsay Lohan. There wouldn't be another incident. Brandon knew that everything would be all right with him. Thalia, Brandon, and their dad could be a family again. Sure, Thalia was the obvious favorite, and actually got to live with Dad, but Brandon wasn't so far off.

"Excuse me! This might be new to you, but this room is reserved for a dance team meeting." Brandon snapped out of his thoughts, and spun around. Of course. There was Skyler Finlay. Perfect start to the day… She wore yellow Soffe shorts over black leggings and a black leotard. A purple sweatshirt hung lazily over her shoulders, and her glowing bronze hair was twisted into a perfect braid. She _was _pretty; there was no denying it. She was also a bit of a brat, though. To Brandon, at least. That was part of the reason Brandon hated her so much. She wasn't obnoxious to anyone else, really. Sure, she cut class, got away with it, and pissed off the teachers when she got perfect grades, but she was decent to everyone. He knew that some part of her didn't trust him.

"I thought your little crew did field hockey," he sighed, referring to the gaggle of followers she had. He brushed his brown hair out of his chocolate colored eyes. Skyler smiled coldly.

"Well, there's this process called seasons, and you see, when it becomes what we call 'winter,' you can't go outside and play field hockey. So, if you're like me, you are the captain of the dance team during winter. And then, when it's 'spring,' I play varsity lacrosse." She batted her eyes and clasped her hands condescendingly. Another reason she was so infuriating: as a sophomore, she was captain of the award-winning dance team, _and _class president. "Besides, shouldn't you be asleep? You really shouldn't exert your brain more than necessary; it will just shut off one day." Brandon picked up the basketball and placed it on the rack.

"You're an idiot, Skyler."

"Well, then this is a school full of morons. Now, my dancers will be here soon, and we need to talk about try-outs. So, toodaloo! That's right, leave." She watched him stomp out the door, pleased with herself. Brandon bumped into a flow of petite girls, skipping and clapping as they rushed into the gym. Who would want to spend all their time dancing? What a waste. Sighing, he bounded out of the front door, and trudged back to the Thunder Dorm. The stately brick mansion stood just north of the main building, and was enveloped by trees. A statue of a rearing lion stood proudly on the lawn. Red doors welcomed students into the rooms. A bright green banner hung over the trees reading 'BOOM, BOOM!,' the Dorm's unofficial slogan. It had started with Mr. Greyson, a teacher now, but once a hilarious student. Every time he made a goal in any game, he would yell, 'Boom, Boom, for Thunder!' It just stuck after that. Brandon pulled himself up the steps to the door, and swiped his student ID. The doors clicked open, and he absorbed the dorm. Straight ahead, there was a huge common room, with ginormous TVs, and comfy leather couches. Several floor-to-ceiling windows bore painted-on jokes, sloppily done by the students. An enclosed courtyard lay beyond the windows, with reddish concrete tiles as a floor, and benches scattered around. Two staircases spiraled from the front of hall, and formed a huge platform above everything, lined by an iron railing. Various doors stood on the second floor, and the corridor stretched into both directions; one for boys, and one for girls. Mechanically, Brandon swung himself up the left staircase, ready to head back to bed. Ignoring his surroundings, he bumped into someone.

"Hello?" A familiar voice echoed through the hallway as Brandon looked at who he'd bumped. Oh. Jay Mason was the only blind kid at Four Oaks. He was a bit bitter about his situation, and stayed in the libraries most of the time, running his hand over pages of braille. His fingertips were slightly scarred from the harsh, raised bumps. In his left hand, he clutched a bright red leash, hanging on to a panting German shepherd. He'd never used the cane; he hated looking like it was a serious condition that everyone had to conform to. The dog tapped forward, nudging Brandon. "No, Pilot. Who's there?"

"Brandon." Brandon's voice went up an octave; Jay was always spookily calm.

"You seem tense. Anything the matter?" A chill ran down his spine. How did Jay always know everything about everyone? It was creepy.

"Just, uh, a bit stressed."

"You shouldn't worry about your father." Woah. That came out of nowhere. "Crimes aren't hereditary. Many people have been accepted into society despite their parent's deeds. Take John Quincy Adams, for example. His father was the first president to be impeached! Everyone hated him. Quincy Adams, however, went on to be Secretary of State, and president." Brandon felt strangely soothed by the words. Jay wasn't very popular, like his siblings, but people respected him. He was very trusted throughout the school.

"Thanks. Uh, that's nice of you. Where are you going? Do you want some help down-" Jay's eyes flashed a brilliant blue. He swung his head to Brandon. His eyes seemed to delve deep into his soul.

"I don't. Need. Help. They're stairs. I've walked down them before." Fuck. Okay, he wasn't friends with Jay anymore.

"Sorry," Brandon muttered. He raced down the hall to his room. His roommate, Bradley, was spread out across his bed. Brandon groaned. Out of nowhere, an alarm clock screeched. Bradley shot up.

"Wow. You're up already? Fast. I had the weirdest dream." Bradley was probably the most hyper guy ever. Always working, always getting ready for the next step. He woke up promptly at 7:00 every morning, did all his homework the minute school was out. He was sort of a role model to Brandon. It was pure luck, though, that they roomed together. "Where've you been this morning?"

"I was practicing basketball, until Skyler Finlay and her cronies kicked me out."

"Skyler's not that bad! What do you even have against her?"

"She's not that great, either. Besides, I don't _have _to be in love with her, just because everyone else is."

"Whatever you say, man. I guess you didn't happen to see what's for breakfast? No, never mind. I'll skip it. What do you have first?" Bradley pulled on some clothes.

"Umm, English. You?"

"Gym. Get to start off the day by getting all of my energy out. See you, Brandon." Bradley ran past Brandon, a smile on his face. Brandon leaned down and grabbed his school bag. His books were piled into a backpack, and the folded over cloth on the zipper was frayed. Resigning to another six-hour day of torture, Brandon swung it over his shoulder, and strode back to the main building.

English was everyone's favorite subject. Mr. Greyson was awesome. He made jokes the entire time, and commented on his favorite and least favorite teachers. Everyone did well, and no one was left out. At the present moment, he had a gigantic picture of a boy smoking a pipe.

"Huck Finn. Classic book, right? It's great as long as you don't screw up the initials. Because, if the first word started with an 'F,' I would be out of a job. And the book would be banned nationwide. Which it was, at one point! Huckleberry Finn was banned everywhere when it was written. Now, why do you think that would be?" He leaned against his messy desk and twirled the Expo marker in his fingers. Brandon raised his hand.

"Because of all the segregation in it?"

"If you mean the constant use of the 'N' word, you are correct. Publishers found this offensive, and many tried to substitute at least the word 'slave' with 'servant.' Other social issues were a problem as well. Apparently, Twain wrote it with all the wrong words. If you ask anyone, the reasons were crappy, but it was still banned. One problem was the use of the word 'sweat,' instead of 'perspiration.' Stupid, right? Yeah, and that's why the main issue here is the African American-White relationship. The slavery era was an awful time, but it needs to be acknowledged. This just proves how afraid people are of embracing their mistakes! If you just accept them, you can get something really great out of them! Not a.. half-assed job of a period piece where every slave was paid!" The class ignored his language, they were used to it. He paced the front of the room, and emphasized his lecture with his hands.

"Mark Twain saw that. And he was p.o'd. In fact, when it was first banned in 1885, he wrote to a friend, explaining that in the official statement to ban the book, it was listed as 'trash suitable for only scums.' Crazy, because now we all read it? So, hello fellow-scum!" The class high-fived each other as he waved. "Anyways, he mouthed off to his friend about how 'trash would sell 25,000 copies for sure.' And I love that quote. Because when you're a writer, t's important to understand other people's criticism, for sure. In anything you do, you need to learn to take some flack about all your mistakes. But you also need to go with your gut. And be proud of yourself. Because, honestly, who the hell cares what the book is if you're rich?" Everyone hooted.

Brandon drifted off for the rest of the class, turning the words over in his mind. He would never be able to completely let go of what others said. With all the shit about his family, it would be impossible. But he did have some good ideas. He knew he could make a difference if people would let him. And yes, it was dramatic for a guy who just wanted to be team captain, but it was sort of inspiring. His eyes closed languidly until a sharp bell rang and jerked him out of his seat. Contentedly, he moved to his next class. Life didn't have to suck so badly after all.

**A/N: Ok, I'm kind of unsure about the last few paragraphs, but I had writers block, and just wanted SOMETHING to happen. How do you like it though? Good, bad? Review! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 2

**This is from Daelyn (Dovepaw)'s point of view. Thanks for all the great character suggestions, guys! I definitely want to work a few in. For this chapter, I'm going to add a new tutor, Scott Bledego. Or Scourge. He's an all-around sketchy guy, with a track record of mental illnesses. After therapy, and drug rehab, the school hired him in an effort to keep him off of drugs. He doesn't come in much this chapter. Ivy Burch is (guess who!) Ivypaw. Oh, and Rawdon Smith (Ravenpaw) is coming in as Daelyn's best friend. I know, random, but I kind of had to. And Skyler's not as big of a bitch as she seems… Enjoy! I don't own Warriors.**

Daelyn galloped down the hallway. _Okay, Dael. You have 30 seconds to get to a class that is 5-zillion miles away. You can do this. _History was in the very, very back of the main building, of course. And she had just been in the very, very front. You may think that if she'd been at school three months now, she should've learned time management, but this was different. The office sent her a note that the History room had been switched today, and she was lost. And she… heard something.

At first it was a meaningless little murmur in her ear, but it grew louder. That's what bothered her. Daelyn had always been the one with 'eyes of a hawk, ears like a rabbit, etc.' She just sensed things. And today, it just didn't sound normal when the door to the front office opened.

It was, of course. Just some new tutor being initiated. Scott Bledego, or something else like that. Shit, this sucked! Mrs. Finlay wasn't one to tolerate tardiness. The lockers flew by her eyes as she turned down the final corridor. Hastily, she slipped through the closing door.

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry, I just-Tarver? What are you doing here?" A lone Shadow sat on the stool in the middle of the room. Daelyn recognized him from a few school games; they'd spoken once or twice. His eyes widened as Daelyn walked into the room. Her soft white hair flipped as she looked to the door, her note, and back. Her face worked into a confused expression, and she hit herself.

"I'm sorry, uh, someone gave me this note that I had- You know what? It was probably just a prank. I'm gonna go; sorry to disturb you." Jerkily, she stared at Tarver for a few seconds longer. "Yeah, okay. Well, bye!" She mustered up a strained smile and swung around.

"Hey, Daelyn!" She pivoted back. "You do know you don't have to go to every class, right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, lost.

"Well, it would actually be worse to go late, because you disrupt the class and whatnot. But, I got pretty good grades in History last year, and if you're confused about anything…" _Oh. _A warm sensation spread through her body. Daelyn shook herself and shut her eyes.

"Tarver, look, I appreciate the offer, but… I don't think that would be looked on so warmly by our peers. Hardly even by our teachers! I really should just go. I'm-I'm sorry. Another time, okay? Or, no. I-We just shouldn't… do… this. See you around?" A shadow of disappointment ringed Tarver's eyes, but his head snapped back up.

"I get it, Daelyn. But, uh, isn't that 'mix-it-up' thing next week? Maybe then?" Jeez, this guy seemed desperate. Daelyn's cheeks flushed. 'Mix-It-Up Day' was the teacher's effort for students to reach out to peers of any dorm; they were monitored to make sure that they hung out with new people. Most people hated it. Daelyn didn't mind it. It wasn't a crime to like someone in another dorm. Especially not someone like Tarver. He was a really good guy. Who didn't love Tarver? He like, saved cats from trees or something like that.

"I would like that." A beam of light coursed through Daelyn's shy smile. "I guess I'll… See you then. Yeah! Bye!" Daelyn turned on her heel and walked out the room. It was all she could do to keep from skipping. That ditching thing didn't seem as bad as it once did as she raced towards her dorm. Was this wrong? She didn't like to think so. Bursting with excitement, she ran her student ID through the slot, and tumbled inside.

Thunder Dorm was empty for the time being; no one had frees first or second. And, as far as she knew, no one else liked to ditch. Joyfully, she plucked a coke from the communal fridge. Freedom pumped through her veins.

"HELLO TWEEDLEDEE! I AM TWEEDLEDUM!," she yelled while she span over to the couch. She slapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't said that in years. It was an old joke she and Ivy, her twin sister used to use. When they were younger, their dad would always call them Tweedledee and Tweedledum, because of their fanatic love of Alice in Wonderland. Ivy and Daelyn hadn't been on great terms for a while now, ever since the report cards came in. It was petty, but the two sisters had a strong rivalry between them, and Ivy was not one to lose a competition. If you didn't get it, Daelyn did better than Ivy by miles. Daelyn plopped on the couch.

"Wha!" She was pushed off by a scrawny figure, clad in baggy, second-hand clothes, and a beat-up pair of converse. A book flew across the room. It was, of course, the scholarship student, Rawdon Smith.

Rawdon was kind of the stereotypical scholarship student. A tiny kid who had been ridiculed at an old school in a not so nice area. He had dark brown skin, and his head was bare. Constant rings around his eyes signified sleepless nights, mostly filled with nightmares of recently pardoned criminal, Timothy Thomas.

"Rawdon," Daelyn sighed to her friend. "Why aren't you in History?"

"Pretty obvious. I didn't sleep at all last night! I think that Brandon kid has something against me. I think that he knows that I know what his dad really did, and he thinks that without his dad he will never be the rich kid he wants to be, and-"

"Rawdon! This obsession with the Thomas family is ridiculous! It can't be healthy. I mean, tons of men look like Timothy Thomas. What you saw… You can't make a snap judgement. And if it worries you this much, talk to Mr. Finlay about it."

"Yes, you would think that would all be fine and dandy, but no! He saw me, Daelyn! He'll know who turned him in. And then, he'll use those slippery words of his, and get out of jail. And _kill _me." Daelyn rolled her eyes. "Really, it was him! He looked at me, and lightening cracked-"

"You should be a novelist, Rawdon."

"-And it illuminated that terrifying scar that runs down his face. When you look at him, you think that bear would've clawed out his eye. And it's so sick. That everyone trusted him after he killed that bear, and now he went and did this to us!"

"You can't prove that, though! It means nothing in court. All you can do is deal with it, or tell someone who can look into it in more detail."

"Fine. Just allow me my hour of peace and quiet. I can't sleep with all that darkness. Besides, you're not innocent. Why are you here?" Rawdon settled back into the couch.

"I got pranked, and thought that History was way in the back of the main building. By the time I figured it out, it was hardly even worth it to go."

"Daelyn. We have like, half an hour left of class. What happened?" Damn.

"You're to smart for you're own good, Rawdon." He smirked. "I just, ran into someone, that's all. We talked for a little, and now I'm kind of distracted."

"Ran into who?" Daelyn's face portrayed her conflicting emotions. She knew she could trust Rawdon, but was this the kind of secret to relish in solitude?

"Tarver Rowson." Rawdon made a face.

"Personally, I've never had anything against inter-dorm relationships. It's just a hype thing, if you ask me. But that doesn't mean I like the sound of some Shadow falling in love with my best friend. And, is it worth it/ With all that happened between you and Ivy, maybe you shouldn't distance yourself from everyone quite so much-"

"I appreciate your concern, but I am perfectly fine without my sister. Really! It's a common misconception that we, like, need each other to survive, but _that's _just hype. Sure, there are times when I miss her, but I don't think following the rules on Mix-It-Up Day is going to ruin our chances of reconciliation."

"Maybe not, but planned? That's weird."

"Whatever. It makes me happy, and no one else needs to accept an explanation. One day on the wild side won't kill me."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Quick note! I'd like to give Scourgefan22 for name and character ideas for Rawdon, Mr. Bledego, and now… Bridget Hening! She doesn't appear in this chapter, but she's Brightheart! Thank-you for all the great reviews and ideas! This one's from Skyler(Squirrelflight)'s POV. Hope you enjoy! PS. Still don't Warriors. **

Skyler flicked her pen back and forth between her fingers, hitting the paper in front of her every so often. Ratty green sweatpants with a huge tree on them covered her toned legs, and she wore-God help her-her old brown, rectangular glasses. She had long since gotten contacts, but when she got home late, it was easier to take them out and just tolerate the glasses. The clock rang out one long stroke, and she whipped her head around. Smooth, red hair fluttered out of her bun and into her eyes. 1:00. Wasn't that a new extreme homework time?

The truth was, Skyler Finlay was stressed. Yeah, she was gorgeous, had everything she could ever want, and was good at basically everything, but that weighed down on you, believe it or not. It nettled her that no matter how perfect she was, someone could always find something… wrong. She tried to be nice, but she ended up being a bitch. (Don't lie, you've totally thought it before.) She tried to be pretty, but she was never quite thin enough. She tried to be smart, but math still looked like chinese to her. She bet Blair could speak chinese.

Blair Jackson was Skyler's mini-idol. Even if Skyler was easily more popular than her, she didn't feel happier than her. Blair smiled all the time. She made every joke. Like, ever. Everyone got all pumped up listening to her, which was convenient because she was the varsity captain of field hockey and lacrosse. Of course. It kind of inspired Skyler, watching her. It also kind of sucked watching her. Jealousy was totally overrated.

The point was, it wasn't fair. She grew up in the family of this… child prodigy who was the first kid from Four Oaks to gain a national title, much less at football, basketball, lacrosse, baseball, English, and Spanish! And her mom wasn't a complete unknown, either. It was a fairytale love story, you could say. Girl hates boy, boy hates girl, boy saves girl's life (but it really wasn't as dramatic as that), girl loves boy, boy loves girl, boy marries girl. But she knew everyone expected something fairytale out of her, too, and she didn't know if she was fairytale material. The door to her bathroom was wide open, and she stared at the toilet longingly.

No. Just no. That phase was long behind her, now. It was disgusting to even… think of doing that to yourself! Plus, if anyone found out what she'd done… She wouldn't be able to stand the way Dad would look at her. Or Mom, or Leah. She wasn't a psycho, emo, troubled kid. She was just a teenager, and teenager's did not throw up after every meal, unless they had cancer! Besides, she was strong now. It felt exhilarating to be this healthy all of the time. She could feel blood coursing through her veins, doubtlessly pushing her to live. It was reassuring. But something still hurt.

Obviously, this wasn't the biggest issue with bulimia, but maybe it was that no one… noticed. She'd read all these books where suddenly someone noticed, and everyone threw you a party, and everything became okay. But that just wasn't how it went. Did they not care about her enough to pay attention? Did they hate her enough to want her to die? A soft bleep took her out of her thoughts. Swiftly, she clutched her phone to her.

_Still working on homework? _Ashton. How would he know that? She tapped in a reply.

_Yesss… How would you know that tho?_

_ Just got back from party. i see ur window ;) Study hard. Party HARDER! surprised u weren't there. _He noticed? Wow.

_don't know if i should be taken school advice from a guy who got held back twice. _

_ Point takne. want help? i have learned it like five times… _That could be nice. Ashton was really nice. Everyone loved Ashton! Sure, he was kind of a moron. But, he seemed sweet enough.

_If u want to com over, feel free! my door is open. _Skyler darted up to the door, and twisted the lock on her knob. Thinking quickly, she pulled a sweatshirt over her hole-filled t-shirt. Just in time, the door flew open.

"Guess who!" Ashton flung his hands in the air, and enveloped Skyler in a hug. "Hey, tiny dancer! Elton John song, right?" Skyler nodded; that had been her pet name ever since freshman year when she got the solo in that song.

"Yeah! So, um, how was your day?" Was she nervous? Oh God, she was. This was a first. She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. He glanced around her room. The doors were a rough purple that had always reminded her of unfired pottery. Her black and white swirled bed-spread was messily thrown on her mattress. Mahogany frames held pictures of her sister, friends, and parents. There was even one of Ashton perched next to the cork-board filled with postcards of every vacation spot she'd been to, her favorite quotes, and scribbly sticky-notes holding stupid messages. She felt self-conscious immediately, and smoothed out her sweatpants. Wait, it was like, 1 am. What was she thinking? A guy, in her room, with pajamas? Weird.

"Actually, do you want to go to the common room? It's kind of… stuffy here."

"I'm okay." Skyler felt her frustration growing.

"Well, I'm glad, but I'm not. So, let's go down." She swerved around Ashton, but he grabbed her shoulders.

"That party was pretty crowded. We wouldn't want to be interrupted by anyone just getting in."

"Curfew's soon; they'll already be back."

"How can you know that?" Skyler rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms angrily.

"You just shouldn't be in my room, Ashton! Besides, you're probably drunk." He looked outraged at the accusation.

"What, you think I'm gonna rape you? Last I remembered, you invited me."

"Ashton, you texted me asking if I wanted help."

"Could've said no!"

"Just, leave. Please? We can do this tomorrow. Or even now, just in the common room." He shook his head, a little bit of scorn in his eyes.

"Nah. Text you tomorrow, Skyler." He trudged out of her doorway dejectedly, and she stared moodily after him. She'd confused herself. She did kind of invite him over, but she kind of didn't. And she wanted him to be there, really. She just didn't want what went with having a guy in your room at 1 AM. Not with Ashton. Right?

**A/N: Hope you enjoy! It's kind of short, but I have lots of stories to catch up on! Thanks for reading! Review, and let me know if your opinion of Skyler has changed at all, or anything. Personally, I love Squirrelflight. I mean, Brambleclaw would've kept something from her for Tawnypelt, especially if they got to be closer and share the same clan! And she's so independent! I thought it would be cool to explore what would go with having a super famous family. Let me know if you like!**


	5. Chapter 4

Bridget always believed that beauty came from the inside. Even when she was pretty on the outside, too. Of course, don't tell Clark she thought she wasn't pretty. He still thought she was.

You see, Bridget was born as the girl that everyone looked at, and said, _"My God, that girl is going to be gorgeous!" _And she was. Until the accident.

It started with Sean. Sweet, innocent Sean. He'd never stop blaming himself that he didn't get hurt, Bridget knew. But even though she realized it wasn't his fault, she didn't stop him from thinking it was. It was nice to have someone to blame. Anyways, when he was just a freshman, he'd gone and gotten totally wasted at some off-campus party. Bridget was there, and being the good girl she was, offered to take him home safely. Neither of them had a car, so she made the executive decision to walk him home.

She was really safe. She was! Looked both ways at every corner. Obeyed traffic laws. But the problem was, drunk guys aren't the best at paying attention. So even though Bridget warned him not to, Sean yanked her into the street, giggling hysterically. He got across, of course, by running. But she decided she'd never live if she ran, and it was best to go back to the other side of the street. His strength kept her planted firmly in the middle of the road. And the car came with blazing lights, and a wide-eyed driver who did nothing to stop.

When Bridget woke up in the hospital, she cried for days. Her face was _mutilated! _Flesh hung limply from her bones, and an empty eyelid stretched over the space where her old brown eye formerly sat. Her satiny, light brown skin was ruined with dark burn marks, and her mouth was pulled down into a permanent frown. Even if she thought her inside was beautiful, it still hurt to see all that go. At first, everyone came to visit her. But then, the novelty wore off, and she just scared people. Off-campus housing facilities were shut down, a strict curfew was enforced, and no one remembered the reason why. Except Clark.

Ah, Clark. He was amazing, really. So passionate. And he was an outsider too, like Bridget. Ever since he was caught stealing food from the carefully rationed cafeteria, everyone ignored him. Bridget's phone buzzed. Speak of the devil…

He wanted to come over. Of course he could. Bridget's single eye welled with tears for a moment. She was so, so grateful. He was just so amazing. Suddenly, a strong pair of arms wrapped around her neck, and Bridget felt a rough kiss on her cheek. She smiled sadly, and Clark eyed the oval mirror she sat in front of. He hated when she reminisced about the old days.

"Wha'cha doing?"

"Nothing, nothing. How are you?" Bridget looked up at him happily. His blue eyes appraised her face anxiously.

"Better, now that I'm here." Bridget blushed. It was stupid, cheesy things like that that made her heart melt. He ran his fingers through her long, wavy brown hair. "Are you hungry?" She giggled. Clark always wanted food.

"I'd eat something." She turned and looked up at him. "Hey, Clark-" She paused, and sighed. She'd been wanting to ask him something for a while now. She twisted her hair around one finger and frowned. He looked at her, troubled.

"Clark, do you think all this-us-would happen if the accident didn't?" She cocked his head, and stared at him with an innocent, bewildered face. It didn't look quite right on her scarred visage. Clark's eyes darkened.

"Does it… matter? I mean, all this did happen, so…" Bridget nodded, convincing herself it was an unimportant question. Suddenly, she turned back to him.

"Well… Do you think that's one reason to believe in God? Something so awful… Could become so brilliant." Adoration shown in her eyes. Clark threw up his hands, and turned away.

"I've told you, Bridget! If God was real, he wouldn't have let the accident happen in the first place. This just happens to be a… benefit." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Come on. Let's go get food." He grinned almost apologetically, and held out his hand. Bridget took it, and stood.

"I know, I know… I just… God helped me a lot in the hospital. I was hoping you could experience him too. Go to church with me, or something. It would be something I'd like to do… together." Bridget's melodic voice rang through the room softly. She took Clark's hand, and stepped closer to him. He leaned forward and kissed her just a gently.

"There are so many things I want to do with you. But I think we both know that that's not happening." He pulled her out the door and down the stairs. "There's hotdogs today. They're delicious. Want one?" Bridget smiled, and nodded.

"Of course! They sound, uh, perfect. How many have you already had, though?" Clark winked mischievously.

"Around 10. But, who's counting?" Bridget laughed loudly, and the common room cleared a path for the couple. People still hadn't gotten over the random pairing of Clark Tann, cousin to Skyler Finlay, and Bridget Hening, the unfortunate victim of a stupid drunk kid and a car. They ignored the whispers as they pushed into the breezy world of autumn.

"Have you done your homework yet?" Clark pouted. Who actually did homework, except for Bridget? She was a good helper and all, but there were so many things he'd rather be doing… Her, for example.

"It's reading. Doesn't count; I have something called spark notes." Bridget rolled her eyes. "Bridge, seriously! I don't have any. I'll be fine."

"Whatever you say, Clark. But I don't think your uncle will be very happy with a failing grade." Clark's pout sunk further down on his face. His mother had died in childbirth, and ever since his uncle, Mr. Finlay, adopted him, everything had been about pleasing him. It was just important to prove himself worth it. Clark actually was pretty close with his adoptive family. Skyler and he were like siblings, and Leah was… cool? She didn't talk much, which was weird. Always had her nose in a book about medical stuff. It was sort of nasty.

"I'm not… Failing. And my uncle loves me, no matter what!" He puffed out his chest, and his girlfriend broke into a fit of giggles.

"You are such a baby!" They leaned against each other, and took huge strides to the dining hall. They were just outside when they heard the announcement crackling over the PA.

"Will Brandon Thomas, Thalia Thomas, Fallon Greyson, and Crowell Smith please report to the main office? Thank-you."

**A/N: If you didn't guess, that was about Brightheart and Cloudtail. Now, can you guess what those four students are getting called up to the office for? Find out in the next chapter! Remember to review, or I might get so sad I'll stop writing… Thanks, guys!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Skyler's (Squirrelflight) POV. Sean is Shrewpaw. **

Skyler was _not _eavesdropping. She wasn't that desperate for drama. She just… happened to be visiting her dad, and heard him saying some pretty interesting things to four _very _interesting people.

The layout of the front office was such that you could be getting a coffee (one of the many benefits of being the principle's daughter), and here everything going on in Mr. Finlay's office. That was the plan of attack from the start. Come on, what was she supposed to do? When you have access to the type of information that concerns the four most random people ever, you take advantage of it.

"Hello, kids. I hope I didn't interrupt your meal." Her father's voice sounded tight, and polite. She could just see him busily rearranging the papers on his desk.

"No problem, Mr. Finlay. I just hope you don't mind that I brought along Sam. We kind of do everything together, and anything you can say to me, you can say to him." Ah. Fallon Greyson. Skyler had played with her when they were younger, but once they got to the point when they were separated by the dorms, and grades, the two kind of fell apart. Her brother was there? Even more interesting.

"Yes, thank-you Fallon. It's no problem, I'll just make a little adjustment." To what? An adjustment to what? Skyler flung her head behind her to make sure no one was watching. Tentatively, she pressed her ear to the wall.

"Um, what are you making an adjustment to? It would kind of help if I got to agree to whatever this is first." Thalia Thomas. Ugh. Skyler never had any relationship with her. She was so… goth. Just like her brother. Who was also supposed to be enclosed in that tiny room.

"Thalia, if you were a little more patient, you might know by now." Skyler could hear her Dad's frustration. He didn't really love the Thomas family either. To weird. "But, I might as well let you know now. You've all been selected-Sam aside, though he can come if necessary-to go on a trip to England. There's a school there that has agreed to take you on, and help us learn more about international culture. You may leave as soon as you like, but preferably before Halloween. Time is running short. We need to know something soon."

"What? Why?" Oh. There was that idiot Brandon. Always so full of himself. _Hey, yeah, I'm so smart. Blah, blah, blah, I'm so statistical and cool…_

"If I told you, that wouldn't be an adventure, would it? Yes, but you'll leave as soon as possible. We've even made it possible for you to leave next week!" Wow. Something big must be happening. And England? That was totally desirable. Why even ask? Who didn't want to go to England, and get out of this stuffy, stereotypical place? Skyler wanted in. It didn't look possible, but she knew it was. Bend the rules a bit, suck up a bit, and boom! You were out.

Skyler practically skipped back to the dorm, plastic coffee cup in hand. She could picture her outfits already. Cute, popular, and fun. English guys were hot. And it must work the same way? Didn't American girls seem pretty cool? Yeah. It must. Jubilantly, Skyler knocked lightly on her best friend's door. It flung open, and revealed a tall, lanky guy with sandy brown hair.

"Sean! Guess what!" He didn't guess. Didn't even try. Instead, he closed the door and crossed his arms. He stayed silent for a few minutes, and Skyler frowned. "Sean! You're not guessing… Come on, it's not that impossible! Just, fire away!" She socked her friend lightly on the arm. He stood rigidly.

"Did Ashton go to your room last night?" Random much? And how did he even know that? Skyler shook her head, bewildered.

"Yeah, for like five seconds, but I got rid of him pretty quick… How did you even-"

"People talk, Sky. And it doesn't make you look amazing to have a guy over at 2 fucking AM!"

"I know, and I told him to leave. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I just wanted to _talk _to you!" She threw her hands up and shifted her weight. What was the matter with Sean? It was like he was PMS-ing, or something.

"It's just embarrassing for everyone that works so hard to make all your shit look normal and okay! It's embarrassing for me, Sky! I don't even know why you'd _do _that! You don't even… You don't even like him." Skyler looked away.

"You know, I actually thought you were the one person who got what it was like for me. I don't know what your problem is." She spoke in a low, disappointed voice.

"Oh yeah! Because it's so hard for you! With all of your fancy cars, and your…" He pointed at her thermos. "Coffee machines! You have no idea how lucky you are to be so goddamn special! And you just mope around about how much _pressure _is on you! News flash, you don't have much to deal with, since you already have everything you want!" For some reason, Sean's eyes flashed with hurt.

"You're ridiculous. Just because you were born in a shit-poor family, doesn't mean you have to yell at me because I _have_ things! And you know, maybe I don't have everything I want… Maybe I would like to have someone actually tell me I was good at something! Maybe I-"

"_You were fucking prom queen! You bitch!" _The insult stung. It was a stupid aspiration, but all Skyler really needed was to be told she was nice, and good the way she was. She looked away, and stared out the window, willing her tears to retreat. Once her confidence was regained, she glared at him once again.

"That was almost as low as you are on the social food chain, Sean." His eyes were dangerously angry, and he stepped closer to her, fists clenched. "What? What are you going to do to me, Sean? Push me into the middle of a busy street? Or is that to predictable for you?"

"Get. Out. Don't come back, Skyler." She flipped her hair venomously as she watched Sean tear open the door.

"I wasn't planning to." She walked towards the door, but pivoted around. "You've made a mistake, Sean. If you weren't so _fucking _desperate to be liked, and had just let the Ashton thing go, you might actually be cool." She strode out confidently, but as she heard the cold slam of wood, she threw her head down and sobbed. She didn't mean those things she said. They were stupid, petty insults. They didn't matter to her. Or anyone else. She hunched over and turned down the hall to her room. No one could see her like this.

Hastily, she threw her door open, and collapsed on her bed into-into somebody's lap.

"Leah?" Her sister stroked her head. The two looked nothing alike, Leah having straight, brown, plain hair and muddy brown eyes as opposed to Skyler's autumn-colored, majestic waves and emerald eyes. The only thing that suggested a relationship between them was their shared, delicate, pale skin. "Leah, what are you doing here? How did you know something was wrong," Skyler sobbed.

"Lucky guess? What happened? Are you-Are you okay?" The answer seemed an obvious no, but Skyler sat straight up. She rubbed her eyes fiercely, and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm-I'm going to England, Leah."

**A/N: Did you like it? Yup, two chapters in one day. I'm proud of myself. What do you think should happen with Sean and Skyler? She relapsed into her bitchy self, but don't worry, Squirrelflight fans. Skyler is actually a really nice person. Just doesn't want to seem like it. Remember to review, and let me know what you think! **


	7. Chapter 6

Brandon hated airports. Really, they sucked. Why did anyone have to deal with them? And security? If terrorists were so clever, they could get where they wanted to go regardless. And now he was sitting at some random airport coffee shop, sipping an espresso with three strangers, and his almost goth sister. The silence was killing him.

"Does everyone have their boarding passes?," he asked tersely. Mr. Greyson had dropped them all off at security, but hadn't been permitted to go further. Brandon had taken over as director of the trip, but he suspected the position would become permanent. The mismatched thong of students nodded vaguely, and murmured confirmations. Brandon nodded. "That's good." No one replied.

Brandon took the opportunity to examine his fellow travelers. Thalia and Crowell were both picking the meat off of their sandwiches, headphones firmly stuffed in their ears. Neither looked very open to conversation. Fallon was busy writing in some journal, as far as Brandon could tell. She always seemed kind of crazy and spiritual, to be honest. Sam, however, had his eyes fixed on something-or someone. Curiously, Brandon turned to see the point of interest.

Oh shit. No, no, no! Fucking no! He was being sent off to God know's where with a bunch of idiots-whatever. But Skyler Finlay was _not _coming with them. She couldn't be. She smirked as she caught his eye, and rolled her shiny coach suitcase over to the table. A teal scarf was tightly tucked into a brown, form-fitting bomber jacket. She waved a passport at the troupe of staring kids, and grinned.

"Hey, roomies!," she cooed. "Ready for the biggest parties of our lives?" She was met with silence. Brandon decided to break it.

"You weren't part of the plan, Skyler. Does your father even _know _where you are?" She rolled her eyes, and placed a porcelain hand on her skinny-jean clad hip.

"Do you have any idea how easy it is for a sixteen year old girl with one hundred bucks in her back pocket to get a taxi? Oh, do _not _look at me like that! I'm not an idiot; I have pepper spray _and _a rape whistle. But anyways, I heard about your little expedition, and thought it would be downright dandy if I joined in!" She pulled a chair over, and sat on it backwards. She tucked a stray wave of hair behind her ear, and glared at the silent people before her. "Look, I may not look like I'd be the brightest crayon in the box, but you need me. Really! I'm naturally a more social person, and while none of us are quite sure of this mission's purpose, I think it would be helpful to make nice with the locals. My dad will be pissed at first, but he'll see the light. I have phones, and email. I'm not gone for good. Besides, what are you going to do? Cart the principle's now penniless daughter back through two hours worth of traffic all alone? I don't recommend it." She wore a 'duh' expression, and Sam began to nod.

"Maybe she's right. I mean, I don't see the harm." Oh. He didn't see the harm in three guys and a goth girl basically kidnapping the school's socialite? Brandon threw his hands in the air. Sam was just in love with Skyler! And it was ridiculous! She was shallow, and completely unhelpful. They didn't need to deal with her in England.

"Thank-you, Sam!" Skyler high-fived him, and grinned at the rest of the group. "Hey, this guy has got his priorities straight. Why don't you listen to him? And for those of you who aren't convinced, I'm good at languages, if we decide to take a day trip or something. I speak Spanish, French, Italian, and German. And, well-a bit of Latin, but that's dead, so I guess it doesn't count. Oh, wait, hold on a sec!" Skyler pressed her buzzing phone to her ear.

"Leah, I told you, I'm just going to be out for a while! You'll get it soon enough, I promise! Just, cover for me, please? You'd be the best-est sister ever!" Skyler leaned into the phone and groaned. She listened intently, and bit her lip as she beamed. "Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you! I'll tell you what's going on once I figure it out… Love you, Leah!" She tapped out of the conversation without a second thought, and turned back to the four in front of her.

"So! Are you coming to the gate, or what? You don't have to worry about me. I'll take care of that. Even if they have to think I'm missing, it'll be interesting to see what everyone really thinks of me once I'm gone." She shrugged, and looked at Thalia.

"Hey, is that ring new?" Thalia glanced, up startled, and pulled out a single earbud.

"Um, yeah. My… friend gave it to me." She flexed her right hand, contemplating the metal eagle that had wings spreading over three fingers. She smiled hesitantly at Skyler.

"Well, I love it. Cool stuff like that is the best. I'm kind of a hoarder. I don't watch the show out of fear that it will strike some chords." Thalia giggled and nodded.

"I see no reason why we shouldn't get along." Brandon glowered even more, and crossed his arms. Was _everyone _obsessed with Skyler? Sure, she was okay once you got past the whole 'totally judgmental thing,' and-wait… Why was she even _talking _to Thalia? Wasn't she like, a bad seed, or something? Brandon just frowned and ushered his companions to their gait. It hurt that Skyler was better friends with his sister than he was within five minutes. They were currently discussing indie rock music someways behind him. Fallon was whispering to Sam, but Brandon ignored them. He didn't want reminders of their great sibling relationship. The only person who was half as lonely as he was was Crowell, and that was not an option. The kid must have deep issues, and Brandon just couldn't deal with that. It was a problem to be solved some other time, probably after the guy snapped, punched someone, and woke the world up to his anger-management problem. Oh, but wait, Fallon soon invited him to walk with her and Sam. Even offered to sit next to him on the plane. Brilliant. Just brilliant. He turned back and asked Thalia to sit with him immediately. She looked sort of disappointed, but didn't refuse. Sam then nodded and confirmed that he'd sit with Skyler, and everything seemed great. Except that the world's most selfish girl had crashed Brandon's trip to England, and happened to be BFFs with everyone but him!

Once they boarded, Brandon was so pissed that he screamed at a flight attendant who asked if he was buckled up.

"Can you not see, or something? I mean, I'm not a retard! I've _been _on a plane before! Because, shocker, even with my delinquent dad, and my dead mom, I managed to be a smart kid, and get to go to lots of good places. On planes! So I have learned that I need to buckle up before I go zooming out over the ocean, I need to put a seatbelt on!" He could hear Skyler and Sam snickering behind him as Thalia bashfully pointed out that his seatbelt was, in fact, undone.

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but did you like it? I have a lot that I want to happen REALLY badly. I'm just letting you know that there's no set order for POVs. Some may only get their time to shine once, while others may be focused on more heavily. I love Skyler, and she gets a lot storyline, so prepare for her. But I also really like the other plots I opened up, and definitely plan to continue those! Let me know what YOU want to see happen in a review! Thanks, guys!**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello! And welcome back to Four Oaks! Thank-you again for all the brilliant reviews! And I sound like a restaurant hostess… Anyways, Daelyn's POV. Enjoy!**

There was no better escape than art. Daelyn had decided it long, long ago, when she was only four. The way the pencil illuminated mere dreams on a canvas was inspiring. At least, she thought so.

"I'm not saying you're a bad artist. I'm saying you're a great artist, but all art sucks, so it really doesn't mean much!" Daelyn turned around, and stared at Tarver pensively. He had crashed her sketching session less than ten minutes ago, and was on a tirade about drawing.

"If you're trying to make a good impression, you're failing," she informed him, smirking. "What do you do, cheap photography that takes months to develop? This," she jabbed her eraser on her easel. "Is capturing a moment. Not Kodak."

"Hey, you're saying lomography takes too long when you've been out here for like, three hours?" She cocked her head at him.

"How did you know where I was out here for three hours?" Tarver looked away.

"Uh-Um, lucky guess. But that's still an extremely long time!"

"Oh, my God! You are totally stalking me!," Daelyn giggled. She crossed the school patio to him, and jumped around. "What's my room number again? Were you the one that stole my favorite top?" Tarver laughed bashfully.

"I'm not stalking you… They cancelled Mix-It-Up day so I thought I should… officially cancel. With you, you know." Ugh. Ever since Skyler Finlay went missing, the whole school had been insane. Her sister, Leah, insisted that she had no idea where she was, but she was a pretty bad liar. And so, Mix-it-Up day was thrown out in hopes that the school would spend time doing more 'important' things.

"Ah. So you had to confirm… With me… That a school event was canceled? When there were lots of people going to the event in your dorm?" He shrugged, and she pursed her lips. Hesitantly, she opened her mouth, but then smacked it closed. "I bet you I can make you love art!" Tarver scoffed.

"How? How can I be made to love a lifeless portrait of the past?" Daelyn furrowed her brow, but ignored him. Decidedly, she dragged him to a chair just in front of her easel. She smiled as she perfected his pose, or, lack of one, really. He just sat there, pensively.

"Perfect!," she squealed as she twirled her pencil in her fingers. "Just… sit… still…" she breathed, pencil scratching speedily on the canvas. "I said sit still!" Tarver rolled his eyes.

Time passed quietly as Daelyn sketched. Occasionally, she bit her lip while she watched. Her picture began to resemble a climbing tower in the middle of a long valley. Sitting on the edge of a picnic table, staring up, was a psychedelic Tarver. Daelyn wasn't quite sure where she got the idea, or where the deep blue sky came from. But her fingers flew as she added color after color. Unconciously, she doodled a red drop of blood pooling from the highest window of the ivy-covered tower. She gasped as she observed her creation, but left it. It looked… artsy. It looked like Daelyn.

"Tarver, are you ready?," she asked softly. He nodded eagerly.

"Alright, well… It's strange. You'll either love it, or hate it."

"Okay."

"It's really weird."

"Just show me the picture!" She turned it around with a reluctant grin. Tarver stared for a while with a confused expression.

"It is strange."

"That was kind of the idea."

"It's cool, I guess."

"Thank-you?" Tarver laughed loudly.

"I've told you; that's as much of a compliment as you're gonna get from me!" Daelyn pouted and stomped.

"Well, photography sucks, too. It's cheesy… And ridiculous!" She jutted out her chin childishly and crossed her arms. Tarver scoffed.

"I bet I could make you like it. Like, really make you like it, not just 'it's cool.'" Daelyn put on an expression of mock outrage.

"Oh, really? Want to put some money on that, Mr. Coolio?" Tarver laughed as Daelyn chased him in a tight circle.

"Yeah!"

"How much?" He calculated.

"Twenty dollars." Daelyn smirked.

"That's nothing!" She pushed.

"I don't want you to go broke when I win… And, if I lose, I only have twenty dollars." Daelyn snickered and gestured to the nearby woods.

"Anytime, genius." He stared at the various views he could capture. Slowly, he turned to a tree, and reached up for the first branch. "You-you're not actually going to climb it, are you?" Daelyn sounded anxious.

"This view… will show you how much photography can capture in like, two seconds!" He twisted to reach the next branch, and Daelyn tsked. She could hear the ground shaking as he placed more pressure on the roots. From the corner of her eye, she saw a tiny sliver in the tree. Panic electrified her. No one would die on her watch! She heard the creak and groans of the wood as it bent under Tarver's weight.

"Tarver…" she started tentatively. "Tarver! Wait, don't touch that branch!" She gestured frantically at him, but he didn't heed her warnings. With a tremendous snap, the branch catapulted to the ground. Tarver rolled down the trunk, yelling. Various twigs nestled themselves in his jet-black hair, until he landed, and turned onto his back painfully. Whimpering, he scrunched up his face in pain.

"Oh, my God… Are you okay? Really, I shouldn't have let you…" Daelyn hunched over him, appraising him anxiously. He seemed to shut off for a moment, and she squealed loudly. "Tar-" Suddenly, he bowled her over, flipping her onto her back, beneath him.

"This is a view photography could capture," Tarver winked. Daelyn giggled.

"Do you like it?," he persisted.

"It's cool, I guess."

**A/N: Alrightyyy, what did you think? As I was writing, I noticed something strange. I always pictured Squirrelflight with blonde hair… Don't ask me why; I just did. I don't know, I guess I don't know any red heads that she'd look like. Huh. Random. Review!**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey! Sorry it's been so long since I updated; my school year is almost over, and finals are fast-approaching! Luckily, I have Friday and Monday off, so there'll be lots of updates on ALL of my stories then. Remember to check those out on my profile, if you haven't already. (I know, shameless advertising. Just do it, though. Oh, and respond to my story ideas on there!) Now, here's the next chapter, in Leah's perspective. **

"I-I told you… I don't know where she would've gone." Leah trembled in front of the burly police officer. Wisps of mousy brown hair floated over her eyes, and she shoved them behind her ears nervously. "She said goodnight, and in the morning she was gone." Leah wasn't lying about that last part. Skyler had done exactly that: said goodnight, and left. But she'd also done a lot more than that, including enlisting Leah's help in a cover story. Stupid girl. She should've known her sister couldn't pull off a lie.

"You're positive that you know _nothing _about where she might be?" The officer leaned in close, his garlicky breath stinging Leah's nostrils. "Remember, sweetheart, you could be saving a lot of people, including your family, a lot of time and heartache for this girl. We just want the truth. That's all. So if you know _anything…" _

"I don't!," Leah responded sharply. Her heart hammered against her ribs as images of her heartbroken parents danced through her mind. "I don't," she repeated more calmly. "I just know what I've told you. Nothing else. Maybe she didn't even go anywhere, but someone took her…" Oh, no. Not the right door to open. Garlick-breath muttered to himself, and jotted down a quick note on his clipboard. The pair sat in her father's office, surrounded by a floral display of support from basically every family in the school.

"Are you implying that you know of someone who would have taken Skyler?" Leah shifted in her seat. Rawdon would've answered, 'Timothy Thomas.' Sean probably would've told them, 'Ashton Roberts,' but that was obviously because they were both in love with Skyler and constantly competing for her affection. Leah didn't really want to accuse anyone… But she kind of had to. Just who? Her mind spun as she went through old class lists. Who would seem psycho enough to kidnap a little girl? She leaned onto the desk, as if in thought, but glanced at the stack of police reports. Nothing. Ah, well. Time to wing it.

"I think… She told me that… this-this guy. He was, like, following her, and, um, she didn't know who he was, so she didn't talk to him, and he got really mad and stuff, so… I don't know. Maybe she, like, snuck out, or something, and the-the guy, that she was talking about, and I told you about, he, like, was… um. Um. Stalking her, or something weird like that, which is completely creepy. So… Um. Yeah," she stuttered. The cop leaned forward eagerly, but she sealed her lips shut. He asked her desperately for a description of this 'man,' but she refused him. After a few moments of silence, he sighed in defeat.

"Alright. If you're sure that's all you've got. You can go back to class." Leah responded on instinct.

"Oh, class ended ten minutes ago. You kept me late, but I, uh, didn't think you'd mind." Stupid, stupid, Leah. She really should've marched right off to her dorm, if she thought about it. Bridget was hanging out with her now, and always praying for Skyler. It was sweet, if Clark wasn't around to ruin the moment with his doubts.

"Not for you… Teachers have been concerned about the class time your missing. Even after the case, psychologists suspect you'll pay less attention in class due to stress. Your parents have consented to get you a tutor." Leah's eyes widened. She'd never need extra help on anything-never. Timidly, she echoed,

"A tutor?" The officer rolled his eyes, bored, and nodded. He reached over to a file cabinet, and grabbed a piece of paper.

"Mr. Bledego. He's a reformed druggie from the hood, and could be a real inspiration to students going through a tough time right now." Leah narrowed her eyes. It didn't sound like her father to agree to something like that. He didn't even like driving through the hood, much less herding it over to his daughter. His one remaining daughter. But, who was she to protest the law?

Leah sat tensely in the extra-help room. The walls were plastered with posters promoting healthy diets, and demoting peer pressure. Thirty minutes had passed since the lesson had 'begun.' Leah still sat alone. Part of her hoped the guy would just blow it off, but the other part, the bigger part, dreaded getting involved in another disappearance. A sudden rap on the door alerted her to someone's presence.

A young man, 25 at most, stood in the doorway of the classroom. Blue-black hair swooshed over his angular, deathly-pale face, and Leah swore she could see a violently colored tattoo peeking out of his blue, dirty collar. His eyes narrowed in an evil way, and he strutted to the table.

"Am I late, doll-face?," he demanded arrogantly. Leah hardly had the courage to nod. "Really? Because it's my class. And my time. So I'd be happy you're getting any of my time at all," he seethed in a low voice. Leah shrunk back, and stared up at him with doe eyes. "I'm Mr. Bledego. And you must be darling, little, innocent Leah." As if awoken from a trance, he stepped forward, and gently caressed her face. She shivered, and he smiled satanically. "I'm sorry. Do I make you," he bent down until he was at eye-level with Leah. "Do I make you uncomfortable?," he breathed. His breath tickled her face, and those pesky strands of hair fluttered back over her eyes. He pushed them back for her. Scared, she shook her head.

"No, sir," she replied in a shaky voice. He straightened, and turned to the white board at the front of the room. Instead of introducing a lesson, though, he scrawled 'SKYLER FINLAY,' with a messy hand. He turned around, and reclined against the wall.

"Good. Now, Leah. You've done something very terrible, haven't you?" Leah's mouth fell open. He couldn't know about her lie? "Of course, she probably deserved it. I've had an eye on your family for a while, now. Your sister was always the special one, wasn't she? You needed to get recognition _somehow. _I guess I could understand that." Leah's face twisted into a pained grimace as his implications settled in.

"No, of course not, I would never-" Mr. Bledego laughed.

"Please, Ms. Finlay. I've seen-and, between you and me, committed-enough crimes to know how to pick a murderer out. But because I just let one of my secrets slip, lets trade. We'll be each others confidants. You tell my secret, I tell yours. And I'm comfortable with that working visa versa, as well." Leah shook her head desperately.

"I think you're misunderstanding something, Mr. Bledego-"

"Scott," he interrupted. "Pretty girls like you can call me Scott." Leah gasped, and cover her mouth.

"I have to go," she managed, before gathering her things. The door knob was inches away from her outstretched hand when he grabbed her wrist.

"I know what you're going to do, Ms. Finlay. You're going to run and tell Daddy on me. But I've done awful things before, and I'll gladly do them again," he said lowly. "Besides, I do know what you did. And who do you think a police officer is going to trust more. An adult working towards his degree, or a distressed, troubled teen who may have… happened to commit suicide under… mysterious circumstances?"


	10. Chapter 9

Skyler leaned against the carefully tinted window of the limo. Sam sat asleep somewhere to her right, but all she could process now was the euphoric atmosphere of the posh car-sent for the group specifically! Could you believe that? They didn't even question the fact that Skyler was just a stow-away! The only thing that ruined her otherwise blissful mood was a great big, toxic, tornado: Brandon. He was hunched over a detailed map of England, lightly rocking back and forth. It was just him, her, and the limo driver awake. Skyler had always been a light sleeper, and easy-listening radio combined with stressed out mutters did not put her to bed.

"Hey," she whispered, careful not to wake anyone else. Brandon looked up expectantly, but frowned when he saw that Skyler was addressing him.

"What do you want Skyler? We're not stopping to get you more clothes, if that's what you want." Skyler gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay calm for the sake of the others.

"I just wanted to tell you to relax," she whispered harshly. "You're the one that has the least to worry about on this trip!" Brandon looked at her incredulously.

"Are you kidding me? I basically kidnapped a minor, along with a bunch of high schoolers. That's pretty worrying."

"You're too negative, all the time! I mean, lighten up! We're in London," Skyler giggled. "Look, if this goes wrong for me, then I'm a lying, weird, desperate girl who stowed away on a plane with a bunch of foreign exchange students. I'll have shamed my family, and all my friends will desert me. If this goes wrong for you… Well, what have you got to lose? No offense or anything, but there's just not that much pressure on you to live up to your family name."

"There's pressure on me to do other things, though. Kind of… Live _down _to my family name, in a way. I need to prove everyone wrong about me. That includes you, you know." Skyler shrugged with a confident smirk on her face.

"Got lots to prove, buddy boy." Brandon pouted. "God, I'm joking!," Skyler insisted, laughing. "See what I mean? Just loosen up to other people… And they'll loosen up to you. I promise," she smiled. Brandon smiled sadly in return, and looked down. After a moment of silence, Skyler tentatively asked, "Hey? You okay?" She reached her hand out, and placed it on his knee. He stared at it as if it was some rare kind of legend come to life.

"Why is everything so easy for you?," he breathed. "We have the same accomplishments. All that's really different is our families. And yet, everyone seems to prefer you." Skyler frowned.

"I… I guess that's true," she admitted. "But that's what makes it so important for you to be open, you know… It's not fair when people judge each other, and I'm being a total hypocrite, or whatever, but just listen. Judging one another is what people do. No one wants to admit to their own faults. It's easier to point out others'. You know that what you most criticize someone else about is most likely what you're most self conscious about?" She winked. "Gotta learn something from having a nerdy sister, huh?" Brandon nodded. "Well, anyways. Just wait five years, and it will all be worth it." Silence prolonged for a second, and Skyler used the moment to consider things. "You know," she whispered. "You're guilty, too." Brandon looked up, bewildered. "I'm not the awful bitch you treat me as. Or, maybe to you I am, and that's something I'll admit. But I never did anything to make you think I was spoiled. Never did anything to make you think I was stupid. You just figured I was because I'm lucky."

"I don't think you're dumb." Brandon's confession was barely audible. "And that's what bothers me so much about you. No one should be that perfect, and that lucky, and that loved by everyone. Not when I'm so… not." Skyler and Brandon blushed at the same time. She smiled sadly, and shifted her weight on the comfortable booth seat of the limo. The lightly flickering blue lights of the muted TV played over Brandon's face. She saw a deep regret in his eyes.

"Well, you obviously don't know much about me," she told him just as quietly.

"Maybe you should tell me what's… oh-so awful about your life."

"Maybe we should go to sleep."

"Deal. Good night, Skyler."

"Good night, Brandon." Skyler leaned onto Sam's shoulder and smiled lightly. A strange, contented feeling washed over her as she listened to Brandon's breathing slow. It felt like some kind of reformation to have cleared the air with him. She closed her eyes happily, and blinked them open when she remembered what she had done just hours before she left for this new life. She fumbled in her pocket for a moment, and pulled out her phone. Sliding her dainty finger across the password lock, she sighed. When she got to the messages, she began to type.

_Sean: I'm really, really, really sorry about what I said… You were being really confusing, and I didn't know what to do! Nothing has ever happened between me and Ashton. We're just friends, and I made him leave the second he got into my dorm. It's a long, complicated story, but you can't tell anyone about this. They can't know where I am, and those tracking things are creepy. Just know that I'm okay, and I'm with nice people, and all that cliche shit. No, I'm not in heaven. I'm still alive, but all of that is still true. I'd be having a better time if you'd accept my apology :) LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, Skyler_

Sighing, Skyler pressed her finger to the send button. A small wheel popped up, signifying that it was still being sent. She growled angrily, and pressed the button again. And again. And again. Frustrated, she examined the service bar. Of course. No service. Taking a deep breath, Skyler shook her head. She could send it in the morning.


	11. Chapter 10

The quiet rush of water surrounded Brandon as he and his fellow travelers stared up at the rough, short structure in front of them. Several wooden cabins surrounded the center river, which gushed rapidly into a huge lake. Thalia sat on an overlooking rock, flipping through a book. Sam leaned against a tree, lazily listening to Fallon's enthusiastic thoughts. Crowell kicked various pebbles, a determined expression on his face. His features were set in the grim look of a soldier participating in a top secret mission. Skyler was anxiously running through her recent texts, blowing loose strands of hair out of her face. Her soft voice muttered unintelligible things to the wind.

"Can we go in, or something?" Crowell strode over to Brandon, a foul look on his countenance. "This doesn't take a rocket scientist." Brandon rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Maybe if you'd actually helped us, you'd know that we checked and every door is locked. We just have to wait." Brandon impatiently pushed him away, beginning to pace. The steady beat of his footsteps soothed his anxious mind. The limo driver had simply dropped them off in the middle of nowhere with almost no money. What were they supposed to do? Skyler sighed.

"Can you all just calm down? You're stressing me out, okay? And I don't get stressed. I'm sure the principle or whatever will be here soon." Her voice was desperate, like something had gotten under her skin.

"Skyler, are you okay?," Fallon asked gently. Skyler whipped around.

"I'm fine," she snapped. When she realized what she'd done, she relaxed her shoulders and sighed. "I'm sorry. I think I'm just a little bit jet-lagged, just like all of us. I didn't get much sleep in the car." Brandon involuntarily stiffened at her reference to last night. No one else noticed his discomfort, and Skyler obviously wasn't concerned. What made it so strange for him to talk to her? It was just like anything else. In any event, Skyler quickly offered up another explanation. "I just realized that pulling this off might be a little bit harder than I thought it would be."

"Really?," Brandon couldn't help but snort. He winced when everyone turned to stare at him, but Skyler laughed easily.

"Yeah, I'm kind of impulsive. My friend Sean used to call me Sky-Diving Skyler." Her smile wavered for a moment, but the brilliant grin was quickly restored. "That's actually who I'm trying to text now… If this stupid place got service," she muttered under her breath. Fallon quickly offered up her cellphone. Skyler shook her head. "Oh, no, I don't think so…"

"I get service everywhere!," Fallon reassured her.

"It's not that, it's just…" Skyler reddened. "What I want to say is kind of…" She drew her mouth into a quizzical pout as she searched for the right word. "Personal," she finished, satisfied. Sam shuffled his feet awkwardly; after all, they had just met each other.

"I'm not going to like, read it.," Fallon laughed, taking out her phone. Skyler bit her lip.

"I didn't say you were, but I… It's just important to me that I say this to him. That's all." Fallon shrugged and sat down. Crowell rolled his eyes.

"Ms. Pretty Princess has got some secrets, doesn't she? Not so great without all the smoke and lights." Skyler glared at him, shocked.

"Excuse me?" Crowell shrugged.

"Just saying that your family might have fallen just a little bit since the glory days.

"If you're trying to sound really cool and insightful because you have a psychological need to be recognized, let me be the first to tell you that you've only succeeded in being a douche." Fallon immediately sprang to Crowell's defense.

"Hey, he's under a lot of pressure… It can be hard to meet a lot of new people." Crowell nodded innocently, sarcasm evident in his eyes. Sam scoffed.

"Really? He just slammed his school's principle, which I wouldn't do if I went there by scholarship only." Skyler barked a laugh at the barb. Crowell stormed over to Sam, and shoved him roughly into a tree.

"What the hell, man? It was a joke!" Sam pushed him back onto the soft grass. Everyone stared at the heated match cautiously, wary of any tension that might spring up within their travel group. First impressions left lasting stains on anyone's relationship.

"Children!," a heavily accented voice called out. A tall, African woman pushed her way out of the cabin in front of them. Crowell straightened his shirt bashfully, hyper aware of the fact that he was the one in the most trouble. "I believe that you now make first impression on my colleagues, so you might want peace. Sorry for my english, I born in Africa." The lady nodded awkwardly, and offered a hand to Brandon. "My name is Ms. Midnight," she informed him. He node in response, a little creeped out by her sudden appearance. Thalia broke the reigning silence.

"Do you work here?," she demanded impatiently. Ms. Midnight looked a little surprised, but quickly responded.

"Oh, no, child. I simply making my way as a substitute teacher. I leave one job here just now." As she spoke, a stocky man materialized, carrying a heavy suitcase. "Thank-you." She took hold of her luggage. Brandon shifted his weight awkwardly as he waited for someone else to break the silence. As much as he hated to, he couldn't help but place some trust in the strange woman.

"Can I… uh, help you?," he asked. She laughed and waved him away.

"No, no, I just going down the street. The exercise is good for old lady like me! My employers won't be lettin' you in at this hour-care for dinner?" Everyone seemed to be under the same trance as Brandon, and nodded or shrugged indifferently. Soon enough, they were all following their new acquaintance down the street curiously, eager to find out her past.

**A/N: Not a great chapter, but it's important and I wanted to let you guys know that I haven't abandoned you! Ah, there's just a lot of school work right now that I'm working on. Luckily, all the projects are due sometime next week, so I'll have some more time to write! For some of my own stuff, check out my TeenInk profile by going to .com and searching 'highflyer101' as an author. Also, make sure to check out Red Bull and Indie, my friend's website. She asked me to recommend it… :) Review, and tell me your predictions! I'll try and write soon!**


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Now I'm taking some creative license with Sean/Shrewpaw's storyline… Let me know if you like it… **

Even if it didn't seem like it, Skyler had manners. She'd gone with her dad on tons of special diplomatic trips and shit. She hated them, but what was she going to do? Anyways, even she knew that it was not good form to be texting at the table. Not when surrounded by a bunch of people you're making a first impression on. But she really couldn't help it just then.

Ms. Twilight, or whatever her name was, had somehow basically kidnapped the six teens, and they sat at some remote little inn dining room about two miles from the school. Skyler shifted in her seat anxiously; the stupidity and danger of their situation was just kicking in. Meanwhile, everyone else was avidly listening to that lady's stories of Africa, and safaris. Skyler honestly didn't really care about what a snake looked like up close. They ate humans, and were all-around nasty creatures. So she had no problem with pulling her phone out and pressing 'Send' again, and again, and again. Crappy, stupid Europe. Of course there was no cell reception anywhere. No one seemed to notice her under-the-table secret, so she tucked her phone back in her pocket and put on her nicest face. Calculating, she surveyed the large, circular table. Sam was directly across from her, and he seemed to like her enough, so she struck.

"Sam? Would you mind switching seats with me? The, uh…" Yes! It was just before sunset, and the beams from outside fell directly to her! "The sun's in my eyes and I forgot my sunglasses. I'll… need to buy a cheap pair later." He raised an eyebrow at her, but shrugged indifferently, picking up his plate. She beamed. "Thank-you so much!," she exclaimed. But once she reached her new seat, she was completely absorbed by her phone. Crossing her fingers, she cheated the reception warily. Yes! Only one bar, but it was a bar. _Ding. _A message popped on her screen. _Ding. _Another message popped up. _Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. _Anxiously, she pulled open her first message. Surprisingly, it was from Sean. Excitement filled her body. But then she read the first sentences. Her bottom lip quivered, and water pooled in her eyes. _Keep it together, Skyler, _she told herself. Heat flooded her face, and suddenly she was alone. Every sound she'd ever heard rang in her ears loudly. Her whole body began to quake. Somehow, she still held the tears in.

"Skyler? Skyler, are you okay?" Fallon wrapped a reassuring hand around Skyler's wrist. Her eyes darted to the phone, and she raised an eyebrow, leaning in to read the message. Skyler jerked the phone back. "Skyler," Fallon called.

"Excuse me," Skyler murmured as she pushed herself out of the seat. Her vision swam with tears. Waiters moved by in slow motion, and she felt her whole table's eyes turn to her. Her feet gained speed gradually until she sprinted, crashing into different people. She flung open the door, and stumbled out into the fresh air.

The minty taste of clean oxygen stung her mouth, and she panted heavily. One tree sagged over her head sadly, and she wilted completely. Hot tears traced her rosy cheeks, dipping into the crevices on her face. Irrational anger flared in her stomach and she threw her phone at the tree. The tears continued their race to her neck. Kneeling, she groveled in the dirt to find her phone. She'd just misread it all. It was going to be okay. Sean wouldn't do _that. _He'd never even talked to her about it before! She made a lame attempt to regain her perfectly practiced composure before skimming the text again. Her chest heaved.

_Skyler,_

_ Well, you never liked cliche stuff, so I really want to make this… unique? I don't even know if you'll get it though. You're kind of MIA. But, I have a feeling this all part of one of your plans. So I have no worries that you won't eventually get this when I say that I love you. I love you so, so, so much, so don't be sad. This isn't your fault. _

_ You're the only person I ever considered writing this to. Really. Not even my parents. They sucked. You always said you liked them, but I know you hated them. They kinda hated you too. Anyways, I'm not saying goodbye to you on bad terms. So I accept whatever apology you've concocted about a few nights ago. I know that wasn't my Skyler talking then. My Skyler isn't the person she pretends to be, is she? To tell you the truth, that night was really stupid. I'm an instigator. Honestly, I was kind of jealous of Ashton. I mean, I've known I love you for forever, but you never even considered loving me back. And then everyone was like, 'Hey, she's in love with Ashton,' and it was embarrassing. But, for future reference, even if I wasn't in love with you, Ashton's just a douche. Like, that's an in general type thing. He sucks. _

_ Now I need to tell why I'm doing this, so you can move on. I hate my life. In elementary school, my dad died, and since then my mom hasn't been the same. My family's dirt poor, and I got into Four Oaks on scholarship. Which I worked all the time for, to the point where I had no social life whatsoever, except for you. Then, when we both got to Four Oaks, you were awesome and popular, and I was like, shunned. I tried to be cool and go to parties with you, and some girl lost half of her face. Everyone moved on from me. You moved on from me. Sure we were still best friends, but you also had other people to do… popular stuff with. I didn't like the feeling that everything could leave like that, without me. I just can't take all of it at once, I guess._

_ I've heard that some people have death wishes. Like, wills, or what they want their kid to do so they avoid becoming soulless jerks who go to hell and stuff. I have quite a few for you. First, find a new best friend. You don't like letting people actually talk to you, but you should, because I know it's not fair that I'm leaving you alone like this. We never talked about it, but I know you're bulimic. I'm not an idiot. Talk about it with you're next best friend, will you? Get it all out to them, not the toilet. Then, fall in love with anybody. I'm not super caring or anything, and I could care less if half the people I know are happy, but you I actually want to live a life. So live it! Go to Mexico, or something crazy that you would've made me do with you, and I'd've said I hated, but really loved. Thanks for that. Last wish, okay? Stay away from Ashton. I don't want to get into all the gory details, but I don't like him. He's just seems sketchy. And I'm pretty sure it's like, illegal for him to be crushing on girls your age. How old is he? Twenty? You just turned sixteen. Yup, definitely illegal. Or it should be. And that's all I'm going to make you do. Not too hard, right? See you wherever, and hopefully a very long time from now. _

_Love, and goodbye,_

_Sean_

Skyler slid down the trunk of the tree, hunching over the phone. He'd never even implied that he loved her… like that. The world spun upside down, and righted itself again and again. Blotchy colors appeared against the darkening sky. Had no one cared enough to chase her? She was kind of glad about that, though. Sean was right. She didn't like letting people in. Her throat twisted into knot, and suffocated her. She yanked air from the atmosphere, and pushed it into her lungs, feeling salty tears slide down with it. Her left palm began to itch, something that always happened when she cried. Her long hair blanketed over her face. She didn't need to read the other messages, all from Leah, to know what had happened after that. Sean was gone. It was her fault. And she sobbed, and sobbed in regret.

Suddenly, she needed to clear everything out. The last hour, the last days, had been a mistake. All of it. She needed to go back in time, or something. Just get it all out of her for God's sake! The fancy British 'chips' that she was so excited about, they crappy fast food at the airport, the crappy fast food on the plane. She had no question of what to do.

She sprung back into the dining room, silencing all of the eaters. For once, she didn't care that she was making a fool of herself. She knew that her face was covered in glaring red spots, and her hair was knotted, and snot was running out of her nose, but she ran right past her table and up to… up to somewhere. Lines of doors faced her, and she kicked one open, thanking God it wasn't locked. She didn't even close it. The bathroom was right in front of her, and she trembled as she pulled off the neat, plastic wrapping of the toothbrush sporting the inn's name. She gathered her thick, orange hair in one hand and kneeled over the toilet. It didn't matter just then that she was breaking one of Sean's wishes. She could keep the others. All that mattered was that she could throw up everything that had happened in her life, every bad feeling, and no one would ever know.

**A/N: Review with your thoughts! Dramatic chapter, huh? This is currently my only incomplete story, so expect more frequent updates in the coming weeks, especially after this week. (All my projects are due then, and afterwards they'll be out of my hair!) REVIEWS PLEASE! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**


	13. Chapter 12

"Should someone go after her?" Fallon tentatively broke the silence after Skyler's abrupt… well, who really knew what it was? Brandon couldn't help but feel that it as a tad bit rude, regardless of her obvious distress.

"Well… Well, I guess we have to," Thalia figured, shocked. Her wavy black hair blew in front of her blank brown eyes. Everyone nodded along. Even Crowell seemed to hold a little pity for her.

"Who wants to… Find her?," Sam asked responsibly. Everyone shrugged. Ms. Midnight looked completely out of it, observing the situation carelessly.

"Maybe we should split up. This place looks pretty big," Fallon suggested. Brandon felt his stomach clench. He did not want to find Skyler and have to deal with her. She might be sad, but that didn't make him like her. But, he hadn't been lucky the entire trip, so what would make him lucky now? He was soon herded up the back staircase to find her. The rest of the group dispersed into various wings of the inn, but he stayed in the main corridor. Most guests stayed there, and she wouldn't go somewhere where people might actually _live, _he reasoned. Lazily, he drifted through broom closets and rooms. The most exciting thing he really saw was the one open door in the middle of the hallway. It didn't occur to him what-or maybe even _who-_was in the room as he wandered over to close it. That was when he heard it.

The awful, awful sound of retching through the overpowering force of sobs. The noise echoed in the room, emanating from the quaint, yet nicely renovated bathroom. Every instinct in his body screamed to run, just close the door and act like nothing happened, and he shook with nerves, but he trudged further into the empty room, moving towards the bathroom. _It's okay. She's not actually going to be in there. I must be hearing things. _He closed his eyes as he stepped into the doorframe. Upon opening them, he saw an almost heart-breaking sight.

Skyler huddled near the toilet, hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Her normally bright face was stained with glassy tears, and her cheeks shown blotchy red in the bright light. At first glance, she might just have gotten sick from crying. But then he saw the neon pink toothbrush in her hand, and there definitely wasn't any toothpaste on it.

"Woah." Brandon couldn't think of anything else to say. He wasn't an expert at playing therapist for bulimics. Skyler started. When she saw him, she tilted her head back and fresh tears made their way down her face.

"Oh, good. You've found me." She threw her hands in the air. "Now you can come and cart me off to God knows where so I can have people listen to me piss. My life's going fucking great!" She threw the toothbrush at the wall in a futile attempt to display her anger.

"Well. Uh, what's… What's the matter?" Brandon cautiously moved closer to her, and sat cross-legged on the floor. He swiveled to face her, and she turned to lean against the wall.

"You know Sean Benson?" _Oh, you mean that kid that's in love with you, but also destroyed some girl's face? _Her voice sounded weak, and fatigued.

"Um, yeah… I guess so." Sobs racked her tiny body.

"He k-" Her voice caught and she shook her head. An unsteady hand raised to wipe the tears off of her face. Brandon watched her awkwardly. "He killed himself," Skyler whispered. Brandon frowned. That kid hadn't seemed that depressed. Well, he was for a little after the whole Bridget thing, but since then he'd seemed okay. But why did Skyler care? "He was my best friend," she explained quietly. Brandon looked up at her. Skyler and Sean didn't seem like they would be best friends like that. It always seemed like they lived in two separate worlds.

"I'm sorry," Brandon mumbled. She raised her eyebrows.

"Yup. I am too." It was silent. "He sent me his suicide letter. And I can't come clean about it because I'm supposed to be missing." Jeez. That had gotta suck. "Mostly it was all stuff that I knew, but never paid attention to. Makes you feel incredibly guilty, you know? Like, why didn't you see that? But he told me some things. Did you know he l-loved me?," she whispered. Brandon squirmed in his seat. Wasn't Fallon a better person to talk to about loss and stuff? She'd be more inspiring and philosophical about this whole thing.

"Well-he was… He wasn't that... secretive… about it-" Her face crumpled. "But, I mean, I guess I could see how someone… wouldn't know… If like, you guys were best friends… I don't know, that would be weird." Skyler chuckled ironically.

"I get it, I'm an idiot. Just, don't tell, okay?" She looked at him imploringly.

"About Sean?" She shook her head.

"No, they might as well know about that. They won't care; in fact, I'd be surprised if they didn't already know. But what you saw… I don't… It's not something I do… like, regularly, or anything…"

"It's considered pretty serious even if you do that _irregularly,_" he replied doubtfully. She rolled her eyes. "Maybe, but I stopped doing it at all a long time ago, and this… I was just upset. That's all." Brandon shifted against the cold marble cabinet. A gold knob pressed into the back of his head no matter how he rearranged himself.

"Do you want to, like, talk about it…?" What? That wasn't what he wanted to say. Skyler sighed.

"Not really. But, I guess I kind of should, shouldn't I? Well-" she turned to face him. "I guess I started when I was fourteen. Just for a little bit. But a little bit becomes a long bit really fast. That was the time when my dad published that crazy, best-selling book, and everyone was always looking at me, and I guess I just snapped." She examined Brandon's face. "You're totally bored by this, aren't you?" Brandon froze in nervousness. "No, I'm not mad," she assured him. "This is exactly the kind of thing I'd talk myself out of." She cocked her head. "You're a better guy than I give you credit for, Brandon."

"Back at you, Skyler."

"Are you saying that because you mean it, or because you feel sorry for me?"

"Maybe a little bit of both."

"Ah." She paused. "Right now, you seem very much like me, you know." She looked strangely peaceful.

"How is that?"

"Well. You blame yourself for your parentage, when you couldn't do anything about it. And I blame myself for Sean. Except that that, maybe I could do something about it."

"You couldn't. Not if he didn't tell you."

"Hm. Thanks for that. I'll miss his funeral, you know." Brandon was struck with a sudden pain for her. She seemed genuinely sad, and maybe a little guilty, about the whole affair.

"You can visit his grave when we get back."

"Progress. Didn't think you'd tolerate me enough to actually take me home." Brandon allowed himself a smile. Maybe Skyler wasn't so bad after all.

"Seriously, though. You shouldn't do that to yourself. It screws up your throat for life."

"Trust me, I know." She heaved yet another sigh. "I just wish I could throw up my life and start over again." Brandon didn't know quite what to say to that.

"Want to go find everyone else? They're really worried about you, you know." She closed her eyes.

"Not yet. You can go, if you want. But I don't want their pity. Not right now." Brandon nodded. He'd felt the same way when his mom died.

"I can stay."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Two enemies making nice with each other. Kodak moment."

"Minus the camera."

"I wouldn't want the camera. I must look like shit."

**A/N: So, how did you like it? Next chapter, we're heading back to Four Oaks! Yay! But I just loved the whole concept of this chapter; I've been waiting forever to write it. REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! Thanks!**


	14. Chapter 13

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The noise."

"Thanks, since it would be really annoying if you weren't articulate about that." Daelyn rolled her eyes languidly and flipped a page in her book, not even bothering to listen. Rawdon's crazy theories had become to be too much for her.

"I really think it was Timothy Thomas."

"Oh, God, please, Rawdon," Daelyn pouted. Rawdon had always harbored a dislike for the fugitive, but now in particular he felt the need to prove his point.

"He obviously had something to do with Skyler Finlay! I mean, she mysteriously disappeared at the same time that his son did? That's not a coincidence," he reasoned. His eyebrows were in danger of peeling off of his face as he implored Daelyn to listen. A faint breeze carried away the last fading warmth of summer. "Really, Daelyn. He killed someone!"

"First of all, Brandon is on a trip with a bunch of other kids, okay? And second of all, who did he kill?" Daelyn arched an eyebrow impatiently, and Rawdon frowned.

"That's the problem. I didn't see their face, but, I mean, who knows? Lots of people die under mysterious circumstances." Daelyn couldn't help but pity her best friend. She put a gentle hand on his wrist, and grabbed his chin. She jerked his head to face her and pronounced each word carefully.

"You. Are. Imagining. Things. The police would've released any reports of a killing, especially if their was any DNA, or real evidence that pointed to former fugitive Timothy Thomas! Look, the guy doesn't even interact with anyone at our school. The only time you've ever really seen him is his mugshot, and occasionally taking his kids home for break. You could easily have mistook someone else for him," she added reassuringly, trying to catch his eye again. Her book flew shut in her lap and she pouted. "See, you've made me lose my page!," she whined in mock anger. Rawdon sat back onto his lounge chair, but his frown remained.

"Maybe. Unless-"

"Please don't let their be an 'unless'," Daelyn prayed, raising her pale hazel eyes to the sky.

"Unless the police are in on this too!" She clicked her tongue.

"Not even going to dignify that with an answer."

"You know it's possible, just-" Rawdon whipped his head back. "God, who keeps making those noises?" Rawdon growled under his breath, looking quite childish. Daelyn opened her senses. In fact, she did hear something. And it wasn't as far away as one might have guessed. In fact, she could've sworn she heard some meaningless grunts of pain. Was Rawdon right? Was a murderer-not necessarily Thomas; she was too proud to admit that, but a murderer nonetheless-loose in the school? Her vivid imagination ran wild. But then, the vague hollering began to clarify itself-_"Fight, fight, fight!" _Daelyn jerked up. She wasn't a gossip-in fact, she loathed the petty pastime-but she still found the occasional drama interesting. Besides, fights affected the whole social dynamic at Four Oaks. If someone in your dorm was involved, even if you hated them, it was like someone had tried to kill your best friend. Tensions were always particularly high strung after a brawl. Daelyn reached over and grabbed Rawdon's hand.

"Come on!," she whispered. Occasionally, she would forget that she was in fact intruding into a large, public scene, rather than completing an intricate spy mission. Rawdon sat for as long as he was able, before being dragged off to see the source of the yells. Together, or maybe as one and one's slave, they bounded over the grassy field behind Thunder Dorm, and followed Daelyn's ear to a central pavilion located just next to the lunch room. Camera phones were flashing, and many people laughed and hooted in enjoyment. But Daelyn didn't like what she saw.

Liam Mason was punching the shit out of someone-that wasn't the unusual part; Liam always punched the shit out of someone, and, more importantly, won. Holly Mason, his bratty sister, was dramatically waving her hands in front of her face, periodically letting out an endearing little, "Oh my God!" Of course, she made an 'effort' to help the situation, but succeeded in making Liam think that the someone he was half-killing kicked him. And that someone was Tarver Rowson.

Daelyn's heart sunk. She would've shown some Thunder pride or whatever if it was Liam versus some River Dorm, or Wind Dorm, person. Maybe even if it was any other person in Shadow Dorm. Just not Tarver. This complication would only make everything harder. She really, truly liked being with him, and not in the way that Holly liked to flirt with random people, but for real. He was funny, passionate, honest, kind, and, she had to admit, pretty hot. Everyone would turn against her. It wouldn't make things with Ivy any better. Even her family was insanely proud of their dorm. She'd be alone. And if-_if-_something did go wrong between her and Tarver, who would she go to for advice? Who would she go to to be friends with. Casting a sidelong glance, she couldn't help but consider that he only had so much time left at Four Oaks, especially if he was driven so crazy with paranoia that he had to drop out. It was drastic thinking, but no one could tell the future. And that was the problem. She'd been very naive, she now saw. To think that scandals went unnoticed in a place such as Four Oaks was very, _very, _naive.

Much to the growing crowd's dismay, Mr. Greyson charged through the rows of people. "Nothing to see here, move along-" He pulled apart the two enemies, and Daelyn's heart sunk even further, if it was possible. Tarver's face was bloodied and battered; clearly Liam had released all of his rage on him. "What the fuck happened?" Mr. Greyson characteristically forgot to censor his words. He examined Tarver's face, and an impressed glint passed in his eye. He raised his eyebrows at Liam. Taking this as a challenge, Liam began to spew excuses.

"He made fun of my brother!" Of course, the notorious Jay Mason was not there. Probably doing like, schoolwork, or weird stuff like that. Even weirder since he was blind. Shouldn't he be taking advantage of the chance to sit out on classes?

"Oh, BS!," Tarver protested, enraged. "I didn't do _anything," _he emphasized. "He just tried to mutilate me for no reason!" Daelyn saw Mr. Greyson leaning towards Liam's argument, simply out of old habits from his high school days, but, (luckily, in Daelyn's mind), deemed himself a bad judge.

"Go to the principle, I guess…," he said doubtfully. "Hey, kid, you want to go the nurse?" Tarver bashfully shook him off. "Mason, you're really not hurt?," he doubtfully confirmed. When Liam shook his head, Mr. Greyson waved a carefree hand. "Go ahead, go ahead. Oh, Holly, it's over, now will you please stop your blubbering? It wasn't that bad in the first place…" The crowd sadly dispersed, disappointed in the premature end of what was sure to be an entertaining duel. Daelyn remained in her place with Rawdon, mulling over what had just happened.

"You went to see him, didn't you?" Rawdon's voice surprised her, and she remembered why they were best friends. He could read her like a book, and she him.

"Yeah," she muttered.

"And now you're upset because the whole thing's screwed up."

"You're screwed up." Rawdon chuckled at her futile retaliation, and walked over to her.

"I'm sorry, Dael."

"This just sucks! We were all so close to getting along, and then…"

"You do know it wouldn't have happened anyways?" She nodded grumpily, and allowed herself to be pulled back to her dorm.

**A/N: Like? Love? Let me know in reviews! Tell me whose POV you want the next chapter to be in… I need some help. See, there's a lot of things that I want to happen, but, alas, what first? It will probably be Leah, but if you think it should be different, let me know so I can write for YOU! Whoo, and all the cheesy stuff advertisers use to get people to buy their project… Thanks for reading! Review! **


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: Because this would seem most relevant right now, this chapter is in Liam's POV!**

"Stay still, or I can't clean it."

"Weren't cleaning it very well anyway." Holly huffed in response to Liam's comment. She winced as her cold washcloth dabbed the one cut that scarred his otherwise unscathed forehead, although Liam showed no outside pain. His constant squirming, she knew, was out of boredom.

"Practice makes perfect. That's what everyone says." Liam rolled his eyes. Practice on mannequins made perfect. Not real life human beings! He played with the edge of his forest-green comforter pensively, allowing his sister to play with his wound. It didn't hurt very much, and it was a small price to play for such an amazing victory. Tarver looked horrible! It scared Liam, just a little bit, that the idea of his schoolmate being hurt ignited such delight in him. His messy blond hair drifted over his topaz eyes. The cut almost complete him. A battle scar made him more perfect, in a way. His lips perked up into a smile until the sound of a slamming door echoed through a room.

Neither Holly nor Liam were very surprised when a huge dog bounded through the room. Their brother, Jay, shared Liam's room, and would have come around eventually. It also wasn't particularly unusual that Jay was in a bad mood, just that it seemed directed at his brother. The blind boy's hands scrambled over a wooden desk, feeling for a braille book. He pointedly ignored his siblings, choosing silence as his weapon. And weapon it was, for his glare, if blind, was like a knife.

"What's the matter, Jay?," Holly chirped in an officious tone. Liam pushed back the urge to smack her. That would only make things worse.

"That Liam can't keep his fucking hands to himself, and then makes some 'honorable' claim that he was defending the poor blind boy," he spat. Liam frowned.

"Well, it wasn't quite like that," he started weakly. Jay fumed, and turned to… look? Well, to face him. "I _was _defending you, and…"

"Just leave me out of your little duels, okay? I don't want peoples… pity!," Jay sneered.

"Why not-," Holly began.

"Because it doesn't do anything! It just makes me look like an idiot when I have better grades than both of you!" Liam and Holly nodded; academics wise, this was true. Obviously, Jay couldn't play sports or anything, but that gave him lots of extra reading time. And he took full advantage of that. Some distant protest bubbled in Liam's throat, but he fought it down. What was that philosophical shit that was supposed to end all fights? Oh, right. _Turn the other cheek. _

"You know, maybe we should just learn to stay out of each other's business," Liam said stupidly. Jay glared at him.

"You were the problem in the first place." Liam examined his hands bashfully in admittance. But was it really a bad thing that he tried to defend his brother? Loyalty had always been taught to him as an honorable trait, and a righteous one, especially when those around you criticized your efforts. Who else would defend the nerdy blind boy? But, if you ever meet Jay, you didn't get that from Liam. Really. You're lips are now sealed. Jay sighed after a moment of silence, and seemingly softened. "Holly, you're being stupid now, too, that won't clean a cut." Holly jerked up.

"What's your bright idea?," she defensively demanded.

"Maybe use something with actual medication on it, not just water and a bunch of Liam's germs. That's not even clean." Jay wrinkled his nose. "Nasty. Besides, the cut doesn't seem to be hurting Liam. Don't you think that oh-so helpful process of evolution will have worked something up to help with that? Like, um, I don't know, scabs? It's a tiny cut, Hol." Holly looked at Liam's face and pouted. Partly because her _blind _brother knew more about cuts than her, and partly because _anyone _had upstaged her. What did he know anyways? Yet, she still set her towel down on Liam's night table.

"Well, I was improvising," she explained.

"Well, I was being _logical," _Jay mimicked in a falsetto. Liam couldn't help but snort, and still stood by that when Holly whacked him on the arm. She was just as tiny as his cut. Pilot bounced around the room, finally settling in his round, cozy bed right next to Jay's. It had come with the dog. A sudden rap at the door interrupted Liam's thoughts. He flew to the door.

Outside of the mahogany door stood a petite, but not too small, girl. Her midnight-black hair waved around her face in graceful arches, and her deep brown eyes sparkled in the light of the lamp. She wore a loose, dusky pink hanging top with a scoop neck, tied at the top with a bow. Small sleeves covered her equally small shoulders, and her legs wore dark jeans and demure, beige flats. Cindy Peterson. A senior. Hey, cool. Of course, she looked like a total goody-goody, but that was just her aunt. Her mother had died in a tragic illness shortly after giving birth, and her ultra-religious aunt had offered to raise the baby girl in place of her sister-in-law. Cindy was really just a ball of energy, devoted to drama and theater. She beamed at Liam.

"I wanted to confirm the rumor. You're actually not hurt, and you kicked Tarver's ass?" Liam smiled and cocked his head, happy that the news of his victory had spread so quickly.

"Eh, well. I try."

"Then stop it! They'll kick me out of my grade, and you'll have to take my place." She walked past Liam into his room, smiling at his siblings. "Hey, Holly. Jay," she nodded. She kneeled down as Pilot barreled towards her. "Pilot," she laughed. Jay grunted in response, and Holly stood.

"Hi! Well, actually, bye. I was just leaving." Liam and Cindy watched her leave. Cindy looked at Jay a little doubtfully, who was glued to his position on his bed, reading.

"Wanna go get some coffee?," she asked Liam. He nodded happily. After a quick goodbye to Jay, they headed down the stairs, Cindy first. She turned around carelessly to relay a small detail of gossip to Liam when it happened. "Ah!" Her feet slipped from underneath her and she crashed to the bottom of the stairs. Tears ran down her face and Liam ran to pick her up.

"Uh, well… Hold on," he told her helpfully. At a loss, he ran through the dorm. "Um, help? Help!" Cindy whimpered in pain. "Help!"


	16. Chapter 15

The grass of Remembrance Hill graveyard flattened under the feet of Four Oaks' entire student body. Fog settled low over the ground, hiding the next step from everyone. Leah stumbled a bit, and her father caught her.

"Careful there," he murmured. She smiled sadly when he pulled her close to him, arm around her shoulder. It seemed like he had aged a million years in the span of two weeks. Skyler's 'disappearance', of course, had had the worst effect, and it also emphasized the stress from the other events. Policemen were pressing to close Skyler's case sooner rather than later and plan a memorial. Sean's family demanded an investigation into the bullying at FO. And then Cindy Peterson somehow managed to fall down the stairs, severely break both legs above the thigh, and land herself in a wheelchair. Nothing could be done about that, but special accommodations still had to be made. Leah could see that part of the sadness in her father's eyes now was that Skyler's funeral would inevitably be next.

Mr. and Mrs. Benson shook guest's hands earnestly, pulling Leah's family back.

"We are so sorry about this timing," Mrs. Benson said through tears. "We do not want to make your daughter's tragic disappearance any harder on you. But we had no choice about-" Her voice faltered. "About when, and we need to close up this investigation. So that nothing else like this happens ever again." She tried to smile, and put a hand on Leah's cheek. Her mother hugged Mrs. Benson silently, and rubbed her back as she sobbed. Her father stood somber, staring at the floor.

"I want to make this right just as much as you do," he said. "It's my responsibility to care for the school as a whole, regardless of Sk-. Regardless of my family life." Leah studied the ground awkwardly, considering picking a very cliche lily from the grass. She didn't. It would seem to… pitying. But she did feel some guilt. Maybe if she had worked up the courage to tell not everyone, but just Sean about Skyler, he wouldn't have done it. She tried to convince herself that he would have killed himself regardless, but it didn't seem very true.

"I know my sister would be sorry too," she whispered. The Bensons stared at her blankly.

"Th-thank you," Mrs. Benson smiled. Mr. Benson stayed silent. Leah's mother pulled her along.

"It was sweet of you to say that," she whispered. "The Bensons know how much Skyler and Sean meant to each other." Leah nodded vaguely as they reached the hollowed out rectangle in the ground. Scattered sniffling echoed off of the trees. A brief silence overtook the room when Bridget and Clark walked right to the front, but it quickly ended. It was better to focus on the present, and the deep sadness that a simple action may have pushed someone to kill themselves, than the past, where a stupid mistake resulted in a tragic mishap. A priest slowly trudged out of the church before the coffin came, carrying a Bible. Clark grumbled something incredibly rude, but Bridget punched him before anyone could hear. Leah had to bite back a laugh. Skyler probably would have laughed out loud, to show Sean how she would be happy for him. And everyone would have taken that as a beautiful tribe, but Leah would look irreverent.

"O Lord, you who are the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort," the priest began, watching the sky. "Look with compassion, we pray, upon all gathered here now, that our minds and hearts shall be at your command. Grant that this service of comfort, which we now hold in your name, may bring to all a sense of heavenly nearness and great trust in you. And may the peace of Christ, even the peace that passes all understanding, abide with us and rest upon all these dear ones," he sighed. Mrs. Benson crumpled to the ground. "We pray through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." The sermon finished as the coffin lowered into the ground. Leah couldn't help the little gasp that escaped her mouth as mound after mound of dirt was thrown into the ground.

The chocolate chip cookie served at the wake crumbled in Leah's mouth. She shifted her weight awkwardly; she didn't have many friends to mourn with. She looked up slightly as Bridget walked over.

"Was your sister very close with Sean?"

"Yes." Bridget nodded vaguely, focusing on a far away, non-existent point.

"If she ever does return," Bridget said carefully. "Please tell her that I never blamed Sean. Well, I did in the beginning. But not anymore. I wouldn't feel comfortable telling her that, as we were never close, but I did tell Sean's parents. I want to get the message to everyone who loved him. So that I can let them know that I didn't mean to kill him." Leah looked up.

"You didn't kill him, Bridget," Leah frowned, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "People… People just have conditions, that make them do these things, and…"

"And certain events trigger those conditions. I turned people against him, I know."

"Okay, this is awful to say about someone who is… dead, and especially my sister's best friend, but Sean was drunk… And he regretted that more than anything. But you didn't make those people turn against him. You could've been anyone, and even if no one was there… He would've gotten caught, or just he would've known, and he still would regret it. You know?"

"I suppose. But it wouldn't have to be public, and it just… Don't tell Clark this, by the way? I don't want to worry him." Leah nodded. Suddenly, she felt the overpowering need to hug her friend. She did so without a second thought. When she pulled back, she realized that guests were filing out of the door. Clark lumbered over and grabbed Bridget's hand, smiling sadly at Leah. She smiled back at her cousin, happy to have someone, even in a sad time.

"Hello, Leah. Ready to go, Bridge?" Bridget nodded, and smiled a goodbye, mouthing 'thank-you.' Leah looked around for her family; they were apologizing for the last time to the Bensons. It was amazing how her father managed to lock away his own hurt. She would've thought that it would be almost easier to have a child commit suicide. It was what they wanted. She mentally reprimanded herself. It wasn't her place to judge-not at all. A loss was a powerful thing, and you never knew what a person could be feeling. Leah shouldn't even be feeling happy! But Leah couldn't fight the feeling that Bridget had given her: a sense of home.

**A/N: REVIEW! Please. Well, probably more frequent posts now since all my projects are OVER… Thank GOD! Haha, well, review with requests! **


	17. Chapter 16

Sunshine filtered through the lace curtains, and Skyler moaned. She rolled lazily in her bed, and nestled deeper into the covers. Her face was still sticky with tears, and she half-heartedly wiped them. Her limbs were heavy, and it took every ounce of energy to lift her hand to her face. Sean, Sean, Sean. Dead, dead, dead. Gone, gone, gone. Hey. That rhymed. Sean, gone. Maybe she could write a poem or something in freaking _school _today. Ms. Midnight had deemed it appropriate to drag the troupe to Rushing Water Boarding School last night. Jesus, great timing. Skyler pouted. Everything in life sucked. She propped herself up on one elbow, flailing a hand in the general direction of the snooze button. Time to get up.

Her hair hung limply in a braid, snaking over her shoulder. Ugh, all those people she'd actually have to talk to. This school wasn't even normal. It was like, one of those places where everyone was in the same grade. Might as well look good for it. She slowly unwound her hair, shaking it out across her shoulders. It bounced a little more than usual; it was still damp from her shower when she'd went to bed. She attempted to quirk the corner of her mouth in a matching smile. Frowning, she pulled out the outfit she'd picked so enthusiastically for her first day. It was a sea-green, chiffon, high-waist skirt, with a a shiny gold zipper straight down the back. It settled perfectly, hugging her waist, and flowing out to emphasize curves. She pulled a white, form-fitting top over her head and tucked in under her skirt. The cotton was layered with white lace, giving it a pretty texture. As an after-thought, she pulled on a pair of gold bangles that Sean-even _thinking _his name hurt-had given her a few years back. She didn't even wince as her brush pulled mercilessly through miles of knots in her copper hair, adjusting it to a perfect side part. Golden gladiator sandals wrapped around her feet, but she felt nothing like a strong warrior. It was all she could do to hold back the tears. No. She could not shut down. Sean had asked her not to, and she'd promised his… spirit that she'd listen to the rest of his wishes, especially after she threw up last night. Reluctantly, Skyler trudged out of her room.

She wasn't very surprised when the rest of her group was already congregated in the main office. She had stalled for a little bit, getting herself lost on purpose, etc.. This was the moment she'd been dreading. By now, they'd all figured out that she had been close to Sean (well, unless Crowell really was mentally retarded), and the tension was painful to deal with. She shouldered her Herve Chapelier bag-a chocolatey brown outside with bright turquoise inner lining-and steeled herself. The conversation since last night had been non-existent, just what you'd think someone in her position would want, but she could not stand silence. Really. It was just a thing with her. Everyone's faces turned literally white when they saw her, which she really might have laughed at, if she wasn't just the same shade.

"Good morning," Fallon squeaked. Skyler nodded politely, and smoothed her skirt. She bobbed back and forth lightly on the balls of her feet. Just like dancing, she told herself. Just find the beat. _1, 2, 3, 4. _She met Brandon's eyes for a flicker of an instant, and immediately studied the ground. He was the one person she really needed not to see just how broken she was. Because he knew what she _might _do in a moment of weakness, and that was more power than she cared to think about. That secret couldn't come out. Collecting herself, Skyler looked back up cooly. She needed calm.

"How are you?," she asked, ignoring the small hitch in her voice. Everyone nodded collectively and mumbled, and Skyler could tell that they were surprised with her composure. She smiled sadly to herself. If she could just keep up the act for a little bit longer… Fallon placed a hand on her arm, and Skyler started. She couldn't push back the tiny fear that someone had seen through her shield.

"A message just went out from school," Fallon began. She spoke as if to a two year old, carefully pronouncing each word. "Sean's… memorial service went well, and he is finally at peace." Skyler was just a little creeped out by the fiery gleam in Fallon's eye, but it also made her believe what she had said. Sean was at peace. She breathed heavily. The rest of the group seemed frozen, not knowing what to expect.

"Thank-you," Skyler said graciously. "And, ah- Don't be afraid to talk to me, because of what's happened. I'm still me. Just… Minus one tiny detail," she shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. The one detail happened to be a huge, huge, detail. Fallon nodded understandingly, and turned away. Silence, just the kind that Skyler hated, reigned, until a grizzled man with downy, silver hair came in.

He wore a… well, an _interesting _suit of a tweed jacket, pinstripe pants, a white shirt, and bolo tie. His big eyes were exaggerated by thick, vintage glasses, barely overlapping the wavy coif of his hair. He hobbled over, and SKyler guessed that he'd been in some war. Vietnam, perhaps?

"I expect you're the students they sent," he said gruffly. He looked them up and down. "Well, I didn't think you'd be much of anything anyways." Skyler was a bit taken aback, and didn't hold in her fierce glare. Crowell finally agreed with her on something as his lip curled in distaste. _This _guy was telling them they were inadequate? Had he ever lived with civilized humans?

"Thank you for allowing us to observe your school," Fallon said dreamily. One of the man's eyebrows quirked up a little bit when he saw her.

"Who are you?," he demanded. Fallon frowned.

"Fallon Greyson. What should we call you?," she countered confidently.

"Mr. Stoneteller." Crowell snorted loudly.

"Hey, I didn't know that England was filled with Indians," he sneered.

"Native Americans, Crowell," Fallon whisper-giggled fiercely. Mr. Stoneteller glowered

"That's no way to speak to your elders, boy." He turned to the entire group. "At this point in time, there is no need for you to see the entire campus. As you have seemed to already learned, there's one classroom for your age group. Come with me." Skyler filed into a line with the other, crossing the dewy grass to the next cabin. She held back tears with a strong will, and walked into what was (hopefully) a new beginning.

**A/N: Long time, no write! Well, all my projects are turned in, and now I just have studying to do, so I hope to be updating a bit more frequently. For real this time. I have literally 11 days of school left… (I love private school vacation times!) Review! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you!**


	18. Chapter 17

Skyler leaned moodily back into her chair, foot tapping a million miles a minute. She'd been sitting for an hour too long, listening to a bunch of strangers rattle off their life-stories to her. It was like she was in Alcoholics Anonymous. She liked to talk, but disclosing your diary did not count as 'talking' by any means. Now some new hippie was speaking up.

"My name is Craig, I'm eighteen, and I came to Rushing Water a year ago. I haven't left since." Geez. Was this place a prison, or a school? "I'm glad I get to be among the first to welcome our newest community members." _Among the first? _There were lo last people! Everyone was in the same exact room at the same exact time. This totally wasn't worth losing Sean over. It was her fault, and Skyler was not going to deny it. She'd been oblivious to his ever-lasting understanding of her, and had ditched him the second she saw how cruel the real world could-and would-be to him and his friends. Then, she had tried to smooth things over by calling him a poor idiot, and had ended things on a grand note by running off to the middle of nowhere, England. And by the way, those cute guys she had expected? Totally non-existent. Life sucked.

It wasn't until Fallon nudged her that Skyler realized everyone was staring at her. The students had insisted they introduce themselves first (which didn't matter; no one remembered names anyway), and their 'new friends' go last. Skyler must have blanked out for a while. She put on her best smile.

"My name's Skyler, and I'm sixteen." _And I killed my best friend. _"I'm excited to be here, too. You all seem like great people," she lied. While everyone smiled and murmured appreciatively about what a _nice _girl would be jointing their class, she focused on a picture on the wall, probably by some student. Blurry, yet somehow sharp brushstrokes portrayed a beach at noon, the borders dotted with bright orange umbrellas and towels. In the center stood, or, walked, really, a girl, and a boy, both wearing cover-ups from their suit, and the girl even donning a huge, floppy hat to shield herself from the sun. They were holding hands, and looking at the sand to examine their next step. The boy's face seemed just a little bit directed towards the girl, like he was listening to her. Skyler allowed herself to close here eyes briefly, and glue the image of her favorite beach-surprisingly, it was right near her house-across her eyes. She felt the woven hat folding down over her eyes, and straightened up in the hypothetical sun. She felt Sean's comfortable, familiar hand clasped around hers, conjured up from old memories of nursery school didn't mean something more. Her lips parted as she imagined their conversation, eyes blank to the crowd of people examining her.

_"You've gotten clumsy," he would have told her while she hopped over the tiny stones and shells, and slid in the fine grains of sand. _

_ "No more clumsy than you've always been," she would reply effortlessly. She could just hear the ringing sound of his laugh._

_ "I'm allowed to be clumsy. You, however… You've gotta dance, missy. I don't know what the ABT would think about their next recruit being practically handicapped." She would shove him poutily, and look at the clear sky peacefully. They'd be silent in the rare way she was comfortable with: the silence of being contented, of reading each other's mind. The beautiful silence of sound, and the hustle and bustle of the many lives working around her to get that food away from the seagulls. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Just like the sting she'd get in her eyes when she dunked into the salty water, and the look Sean would have when he'd throw a french fry in her face later. And in that way, the daydream was almost more of a nightmare, since she knew it wasn't for real. She would probably never visit that beach when she got home, not with her parent's putting her on house arrest. Skyler tumbled to the ground as she tried to reach the water. She definitely wouldn't visit it with Sean. The first drop of rain streaked the beach's yellow sun, making the bright circle run like an egg yolk. The drops fell faster and faster, until she spun to Sean for guidance. He shrugged at her, and yelled something over the whipping wind, gesturing vaguely to the parking lot. She tumbled closer to him, trying to make out his advice, but he sprinted away. Where was he going? What was she going to do? Would she have to just wait in the frothy water until lightening sprang down from the sky and killed her? _

"Sky?" Skyler jumped when Fallon nudged her. She didn't like familiar tone in the girl's voice. Fallon didn't know her. None of them knew her. Why did they insist on acting like they did? "Sky, are you okay?" It was then that Skyler realized that the rain on her beach wasn't rain, it was silent tears. She reached to her face in confirmation, and stared carelessly at the drop of water glistening on her fingertip. The room was silent. Shit, no! She'd ruined her beginning, she'd ruined her new beginning, and now she'd ruined her new, new beginning. What was wrong with her?

"Yeah…," Skyler breathed. The world spun dangerously around her, all the faces swirling into one, huge circle of ridicule, mocking her weakness. She had to get out. But how? She couldn't leave without losing her… well, by then she guessed the 'keeping your dignity' ship had sailed. She still had to try. "Um, I'm sorry, can you just excuse me for a moment?" Without waiting for an answer, she whirled out of the room. As she did her best not to sprint to the bathroom, she didn't worry about the thin walls betraying her secret to more people. The room had sprung into an uncertain frenzy, and no one would pay attention to the occasional noise from the loo, or whatever the hell they called it here. The knots on the wooden walls replicated the ones in her stomach, filled to the brim with crappy breakfast food she just _had _to eat an hour ago. Fuck. Fuck it all. She looked like a pig in front of everyone, and now she looked like a psycho patient.

As a kind of distraction from what she was about to do, Skyler whipped out her phone. No one would have texted, she knew; they all thought she was dead, or currently being raped, or something. She was wrong. Leah had sent her a vicious text.

_When the hell are you going to give this thing up? It screws up everyone else life, and Dad isn't gonna be proud of you when he discovers your 'ingenuity,' or whatever you call this. Just start worrying about someone else for once, God! _Skyler sobbed lightly. Her own sister didn't even seem to care about the effect her best friend's suicide might have had on her. Skyler thought she'd still had an ally in her twin, or at least hoped she did. Well, and then there was one. One and a bunch of shit in her stomach.

Once she reached the bathroom, she wasted no time in sticking her forefinger down her throat. Not surprisingly, she didn't need much help to rid herself of food. Even after she had, she purged again, and again, and again. Stomach acid sloshed into the toilet bowl, and she stared at it listlessly.

And _then _there was one.

**A/N: Hey! Think of this chapter as a continuation of the last one since they were both kind of short. What did you think? Please review! I personally really like this chapter, so let me know how you feel about it! Obviously there was a lot of emotion in a not-so-long space, so tell me if you think it was too much, or anything. Please review! It's what keeps me writing! **


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hi… I just realized something that I forgot to tell you all. For the sake of the story's fluency, I combined Shrewpaw and Swiftpaw's character. The whole Sean storyline wouldn't of worked well otherwise, and I wanted to tackle the emotions and effects of suicide really badly (weird, I know), so I combined the two. Thank-you to Dramamamapwnsall for reminding me to tell you all that. Forgive me? ;) I don't own the Warriors franchise, I only own this adaptation of the characters. :) Before I start this chapter, here's a really quick Tribe-to-human name chart. Here's just a few of them, so don't be shocked if a few other names come up later. Don't worry about memorizing them or anything, since they're generally pretty easy, and they won't have mainstream storylines. (Except for Brooke, of course!)**

**Stoneteller - Mr. Stoneteller (I wasn't feeling super original…)**

**Crag Where Eagles Nest - Craig Eagle (See Stoneteller.)**

**Brook Where Small Fish Swim - Brooke Fischer (Again with the originality issue…)**

**Talon of Swooping Eagle - Talbert (Tal) Fischer**

**Flight of Startled Heron - Felicity Herbert**

**Jagged Rock Where Heron SIts - Jaden Smith (Yep, that's the name of Will Smith's kid. But I had to. I just couldn't resist.)**

**Gray Sky Before Dawn - Garret Dickson**

**Storm Clouds at Dusk - Stephen Cooke**

**Night of No Stars - Nellie Starkey**

**Sheer Path Besides Waterfall - Shiloh Walker**

**Moss That Grows by River - Molly Rivers**

**Bird That Rides The Wind - Bree Winky**

**Swoop of Chestnut Hawk - Summer Hawk**

**Rain That Rattles On Stones - Mr. Raine**

**Cloud With Storm in Belly - Ms. Clery**

**Wing Shadow Over Water - Mrs. Weinman**

Rushing Water was almost back to it's normal routine by lunch. Teachers enforced that vacation hadn't started yet, and, besides, the students weren't very interested once they figured out that yes, America was exactly like England except fatter. Brandon was glad for the tranquility that seemed to surround Fallon, Sam, Crowell, Thalia, Skyler, and himself. If anything, Skyler got the most attention for her… ah, episode that morning, and even that was mostly sympathy and kind thoughts. According to the Rushing Water student body, Skyler was either a) incredibly homesick, or d) a recovering abuse and/or rape victim who received most of her education as a child soldier in South Africa before being rescued by the Americans. Brandon, personally, couldn't tell how the second rumor had gotten out, but if it made his new classmates happy, he had nothing to say.

Lunch was being served at an outdoor pavilion dotted with wooden picnic tables. Brandon smiled appreciatively as someone-Craig, was it?-placed a tray of PB&J sandwiches in front of him. Craig swung over the bench and examined the travelers.

"You alls related, or summat?," he asked curiously in a heavy cockney accent. He cocked his head and peered at the new visitors. One eye was a deep brown color, while the other was a medley of green and hazel. Fallon giggled kindly.

"No! Well, Sam and I are, but the rest of us are just as new to each other as we are to you!" Brandon furrowed his brow. He'd always found something about Fallon unconciously condescending, like she thought that everyone e lee needed help to understand the simplest of things. Apparently, Craig thought so too as he rolled his eyes.

"You seems to thank you're right clevar, dun't you?" Fallon looked taken aback. She was a natural helper, dedicated to aiding everyone. She was a sweet girl, and had grown up unaccustomed to resentment. "We Brits know a bit more than yous 'Mericans seems to thank, and we can tell when we've been insoolted!" A fire lit up Craig's eyes and everyone at the table eyed him warily. His reaction seemed almost comical. Skyler smirked.

"Or not. She just said that we don't know each other well so we need to make a lot of new friends. Surely you could understand that, as I highly doubt anyone would be lining up to be BFFLs with you if you always have that temper." Craig opened his mouth to retort, but pouted childishly instead. Even a few other RWBS students were smiling into their coffee. A tall girl rose up from a nearby table and placed a soothing hand on Craig's stiff soldiers.

"Craig, relax. She was just pointing out that you overreacted a bit. Besides," she smiled. "You did ask for it." The girl turned to the table, smiling warmly. "I'm Bree Winky. I must apologize for Craig, he's just a bit antsy." Her accent sounded more polished and welcoming, and Fallon smiled at her.

"It's alright. God knows that I'm not perfect, and everyone hears things differently. I just hope this won't affect our friendship." Brandon winced. Again with the condescending thing! She was just too… sugary, and she tried too hard. He would have thought that Fallon would fit right in here, surrounded by people just as spiritual, and… hippie-ish as her. At least Bree seemed nice enough. Fallon seemed to think so as she engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with her.

For all of Fallon's forgiving nature, Crowell seemed impossibly uncomfortable. He glared defensively at the gathering crowd of students, only agreeing with everything Fallon said. He hadn't even been the one under attack! At first, his seemingly arrogant and sarcastic manner had seemed akin to Skyler's demeanor, but now it seemed infinitely more unlikeable. At least Skyler had some saving grace, some reasoning behind her ways (Brandon _really _had no idea about what he should do with the whole bulimia thing), and she was generally a nice person, albeit a bit judgmental. Crowell offered no explanation for his behavior, or his strong opposition to making friends with the people he would be spending most of the next year with. His sole redeeming aspect was his obvious insecurity, which at least Fallon could pass off as the cause for his relentless anger.

"Oh, Skyler, I forgot to ask. Are you alright? You seemed quite shaken up in morning meeting," Bree said sympathetically. Brandon could've sworn he saw the least bit of color in Skyler's cheeks as she answered, but he had to admit, he was impressed with her cool composure.

"I'm fine. Ah-I'm just a little jet lagged, and I got some bad news from my sister recently…" Skyler waved off Bree's concern nonchalantly. "I'll be fine. Don't even worry about it." She smiled convincingly, as if to say, _See? I'm not _completely _psycho! _Thalia looked up doubtfully. Brandon silently prayed that his outspoken sister wouldn't comment and humiliate Skyler. Strange as it was, he felt a twinge of regret for her obvious sadness. It seemed as if he had wasted too much energy convincing himself that she was evil, and now that he knew otherwise, he wanted to make up for his misguided hatred somehow. Luckily, Thalia said nothing, and Bree seemed to accept the hasty explanation.

"I'm glad that's all. Anyways, I'm meant to take you all to creative writing class next, which is in Cabin 7. When you're finished, let me know, and we can get going, or I'll just grab you before mealtime ends." Bree looked to them for confirmation, and everyone nodded. Brandon took a careful bite of his sandwich, and almost puked. Globs of green jelly oozed out of two stale pieces of bread, and the bland peanut butter was grainy, and swam like liquid in his mouth. His face twisted into a disgusted expression, and, forgetting his manners, he gulped down a full glass of water.

"You don't like it? It's Mr. Stoneteller's family recipe; his family's always owned the school. We all love the food here. It's crazy how he can make something as simple as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich so unique," Bree fantasized. "He and the teachers make all the food themselves. You see, we only have three other teachers, as there's only one group of students. They double up on subjects. Then, they all get together and decide which students are fit to graduate. Some of us have been here for years." Brandon tried to imagine being stuck in school until he was 'qualified' to leave. He shuddered at the thought of it. It would be humiliating to watch your friends, and especially your enemies, move on with their life before you. Skyler seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Ashton would fit in fine here," she whispered to him. He choked on his water from laughing. Turning to Bree, she asked, "Don't you ever wish you could just… leave?" Bree considered for a moment.

"Well, sometimes. But I trust my elders to know what is best for me, so it's alright. Besides, it doesn't matter how long it takes to do something as long as you get it done, right?" Skyler shrugged.

"I never thought of it that way," she replied brightly, as if she'd just found the last missing piece to a grand puzzle. She really did know how to make people like her. "I'm actually not so hungry; I'm going to go clear my plate. Anyone else done?" Everyone stacked their barely touched lunches on her tray as she walked away. Before she reached the indoor kitchen, she turned back briefly. "I'm just going to head over to Cabin 7. I saw it earlier, so I can get there myself. See you guys later!" Bree frowned.

"I really was supposed to guide you guys," she said to no one in particular. "She couldn't wait a little longer?"

"Hey, let her go. If she gets there, great. If she's lost, it's her own fault," Brandon heard himself say. "What could be doing that's so bad?" What could she be doing, indeed.

**A/N: What do you think? Please review! You all are my inspiration! What do you think Skyler's off to do? Whose your favorite character? What do you want to see happen? Remember, if I like your ideas, I might put them in the story. Then everyone would be happy! Review! **


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: Guess what! TODAY WAS MY LAST DAY OF CLASSES! Much more writing, much more writing! Random alert: I just watched Baz Luhrmann's version of Romeo and Juliet, which is EPIC! If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Anyways, I don't own Warriors. Enjoy, and review!**

"Hello?"

"Dael? It's your father." Daelyn sighed. She had stayed in her room for a while now, telling people that she was in shock from the possible kidnapping of Skyler, recent suicide of Sean, and Cindy's spill down the stairs. It would be expected that the horrific tragedies would unite all four dorms, but they had done just the opposite. It wasn't tension dramatic enough to ban dorm from dorm, but it would be social suicide.

"Hey, Dad. What's up?"

"Have you talked to your sister recently?" Daelyn cringed inwardly. Her parents were constantly pushing her and her sister to be best friends, and it wasn't that Daelyn didn't want that-she did. Ivy just wasn't agreeable anymore.

"No, um… Why?," she tried to say in a bright voice.

"Oh, no… Just that she hasn't called in a while. She did call about a week ago, but then she was just asking to get some new tutor. That's all… How are you, honey?"

"Fine," Daelyn shrugged. "Everything's kind of happening at the same time, you know? In terms, of tragedies and stuff."

"Ah, yes… What about that fight recently? Heard anything about that?" Daelyn's heart beat ten times faster until it was hammering against her chest.

"No, no… Uh, why?," she asked in a pathetic attempt to be nonchalant.

"That, uh… What's his name? Well, one of the guys is suing Liam Mason's family for a broken bone or something." Daelyn spit water back into her cup.

"Really?" She frowned, thinking of poor Tarver in pain. She cursed under her breath. Tarver was just Tarver now. Not her Tarver. Just Tarver.

"Oh, yeah. And the Mason's had to do something, so they hired me as their lawyer." If Daelyn hadn't been nervous a minute ago, she was now. It was all she could do to keep the phone in her shaking hand. "I've been doing some research for the case on…" She heard files being shuffled around on a desk. "Tarver, yes, that's his name… And I think it's best if you stay away from this kid. Just a warning, but he's from a bad part of town, and, I mean, apparently he insulted a blind kid, so…" Part of Daelyn yearned to straighten her dad out, and make him see that it really wasn't Tarver's fault at all, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. "Dael? You still there?" Daelyn shook her head, and willed herself to keep her composure.

"Yeah, um, but, actually, I've got to… go," she improvised. "Love you, Dad," she said in a rush, before throwing her phone on her bed. She stared at it for a moment, as if scared that her father would jump out of it at any second. The dim shine of headlights broke through her room, and she checked the clock. 11:40 PM exactly. Just how much time had she been sulking?

On a whim, Daelyn grabbed her coat eagerly. She suddenly felt her room's restrictive four walls pushing on her, taunting her. Her vision spun for a moment, and she gulped nervously. The cold autumn air stung her nose as she stepped outside, unsure of where, exactly, she was headed. Her feet steered her to the left, and she found soon found herself deep into the woods. A sense of calm settled around her. She inhaled peacefully, closing her eyes, and resting her head against the broad tree trunk behind her. At the sound of a footstep, her eyes flew open. She was on her guard in an instant, even she wasn't so naive as to think that some random guy in the woods in the middle of the night meant well. A dark form drifted into sight, and she clutched herself desperately, considering turning on her heel to run. Her feet were off the ground when a familiar voice broke through the cover of night.

"Daelyn?" She sighed, feeling relief wash over he, when Tarver stepped closer to her. "What the hell are you doing in the middle of the woods?" Daelyn snorted.

"I could ask you the same thing," she responded. "I just have things to think about." Tarver sighed, and moved to stand beside her, looking up at the starry night sky.

"Tell me about it. I fractured my pinkie in that fight, and my idiot pair of parents decided to-"

"Sue Liam Mason?," Daelyn finished in a breath. Tarver looked at her, shocked.

"How did you know?" Daelyn smiled sadly.

"You obviously haven't heard who Liam's lawyer is." When Tarver raised an eyebrow at her, she moved to study the ground. "My dad," she whispered. She could feel Tarver's distress as his frown deepened.

"Oh." Daelyn felt a sudden practicality prick her. She zoned back into the old her, the one that wanted to do everything right and graduate with honors.

"Look, Tarver, I can't do this." Tarver's mouth shot open, but she didn't give him the chance to speak. "My sister already hates me, and… And my dad will. It's just an unspoken rule that you take your family's side on something, right? I know that you didn't start that fight, but no one else does, and to tell them would only make me look naive, and stupid…" Daelyn tried to be discreet as she wiped at her eyes, examining the near invisible forest floor. Tarver's face was twisted into an expression of such pain and sorrow that Daelyn found her heart-breaking even more if she looked at it. Her body shook as she breathed heavily.

"Dael, what are you…" Tarver reached for her hand, but Daelyn made herself pull away.

"Don't, Tarver. Please?," she begged imploringly. He looked even more wounded, but retreated. "I'm so sorry," Daelyn whispered, walking backwards from the tree. "I'm so sorry."

**A/N: Short chapter, I know. Oh, and I also know that the break-up between Dovepaw and Tigerheart didn't happen like that, but bare with me… All will make sense soon. Please review! I'll be more motivated to update sooner, and stuff! Even if it's just to tell me how much this sucks, review so I can tune up my writing. Oh, and if you want to read an original book of mine, certainly not my best, but still an original, go to , and look up 'Politically Incorrect.' It's about an heiress whose dad is running for NY mayor, and forces her to date this jerk from a good family so everyone will like them better. Then, of course, she falls in love with another guy… Cue cliche narrator rambling about choosing between love and loyalty. Read it, please! And please, please, please review, both this and that! **


	21. Chapter 20

It was obvious from the first moment that Brooke Fischer walked in that she was just the kind of person Skyler tried very, very hard to hate. Donated to charity all the time, made best friends with all the nerds, got perfect grades, worked at homeless shelters… Your average, cliche giver. Now, it wasn't that Skyler didn't like reading to the blind, and all that jazz, but rather it was something she just couldn't do. She always ended up accidentally saying something super offensive, or being partial to the popular crowd. Not out of a craving to be liked, she just liked them better. But you see, the key word in that sentence is she _tried _to hate those people. And, like always, it was really impossible with Brooke.

Brooke had showed up yesterday with her brother, Tal, back from a quick vacation to a cousin's wedding or something. Before even greeting her friends, she had wandered over to Sam, Thalia, and Skyler herself to say 'hello.' In some ways, Skyler was glad Sam had taken so quickly to the resident good-doer. He'd been borderline stalking her recently, and it was getting weird. Old Skyler would have told him she just didn't think he was all that cool, but new Skyler didn't have the heart. Anyways, she was glad Brooke had come for that. Besides, while all her other new friends seemed to tolerate her presence, no one else really moved to worshipping Brooke. Fallon was kind to her, Crowell smiled grudgingly to impress Fallon, Brandon was characteristically formal, and Thalia didn't seem to hesitate in displaying her distrust for Brooke. Skyler, of course, had been a little cold at first, but she'd warmed up to her recently.

"I don't know, she just seems kind of weird, latching on to all of us like that. Like she has to have some ulterior motive, you know?," Thalia ranted to Skyler as they stood on the nearby dock, looking out at the water. Brooke had taken the whole group to ice cream, in order to 'help them get to know the locals.' Even Skyler had to admit Thalia was kind of biting the hand that fed her.

"At first I thought so, but hey… She seems nice enough. Sam obviously likes her, and he's like a mute, so that has to count for something." Thalia nodded reluctantly, spooning a bite of rocky road ice cream into her mouth.

"But why does Sam like her so much?"

"Thalia, I'm sure it's fine. She's definitely not some evil seductress coming to abduct Sam into a cult that will sacrifice him to the Gods to avoid being attacked from a gigantic, fictional, beast." **(A/N: Well, kinda… Get it?) **"All I can think of is that Brooke is welcoming, and Sam could use that. He's quiet, and she kind of compensates for that, I guess. Worse comes to worse, she breaks his heart and tells him that she's really pregnant with her brother's kid and needed someone to pretend to be the baby daddy in order to avoid getting arrested for incest." Thalia looked at Skyler strangely, who nodded in admittance. "I have a very active imagination."

"I can see that. Now, are you even going to start your ice cream?," Thalia asked, dropping the topic of Brooke. "You haven't eaten any of it." Skyler tried to smile as she looked down at her chocolate chip ice cream. The colors of her favorite flavor swirled together, and all she could see was the throw-up it would later end up as. "Sky, you okay? You look like your going to throw up, or something." Skyler stiffened at Thalia's concern. She couldn't of guessed. Unless Brandon told. But he wouldn't do that! He had been such a good friend that past week. Or maybe it was just healthy concern… for a friend. Yeah. That was all it _could _be, right? Skyler put on her brightest grin, and shoved a bite of ice cream into her mouth. The strong flavor immediately broke all her resolve, and she continued happily. It wouldn't matter in exactly fifteen minutes, anyways. It would be all gone. Like a bad dream.

Skyler wasn't sure when it went from her controlling the purging to the purging controlling her. But suddenly, it was like she was in eighth grade all over again. Every meal was eaten with the slight comfort that soon, it would all be out. It was that, and the savory taste of the mint chocolate chip ice cream she was eating. Thalia's concern seemed to evaporate as Skyler wolfed down more ice cream. They sat in silence as the Brandon, Crowell, and Fallon ambled over.

"Where's Sam and Brooke?," Skyler asked curiously. Thalia looked around, suspicions rising again.

"They wanted to sit, so they stayed over there." Fallon thrust her head in the various direction of the ice cream store. "Brandon, what is the matter?," she demanded randomly. Brandon's nose was crinkled up like someone had shot lemon into his mouth, and he looked greenly on Skyler's mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"Just that ice cream… Ugh. When I was like, ten, that was almost all I ate. And then I once thought a live fly was a chocolate chip, so I ate it. God, it tastes disgusting anyways, too," he explained, shuddering. Skyler laughed heartily.

"What, so you think mint chocolate chip is bad, when you're eating, like, strawberry, or something? That looks like medicine!," she laughed breathlessly.

"You're only ruining ice cream in general for me, you know."

"So you just won't eat mint chocolate chip? Ever?" Brandon shook his head slowly. Skyler smirked and put a glob of ice cream on he spoon, waving it in Brandon's face. "Eat it, eat it!" Brandon backed away like a ninja. "God, you're like a two year-old," Skyler teased. "Now, open the hangar, open the hangar! Whoop, and in goes the airplane," she sing-songed. As Brandon opened his mouth to protest, she threw the ice cream in, and his face immediately became sour.

"Thath dithguthing," he said, holding his tongue to the roof of his mouth to avoid tasting the ice cream as much as possible. "Abtholutely nathdy!" Skyler cackled evilly with the rest of the bystanders.

"It's just not that bad," she insisted, wiping her eyes. Brandon swallowed the ice cream grudgingly, and glared at Skyler.

"What if I was allergic to mint? What if I died?," he demanded, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away that he thought the whole situation was hilarious, too.

"Didn't you just say you used to be obsessed with it?," Skyler retorted.

"He was," Thalia testified. "It was horrible! I'm shocked he's not completely obese," she teased, grabbing her brother's stomach. He squirmed away from her hand.

"You're all evil," he declared loudly. "I will get revenge, Skyler!" Skyler winked at him and smirked as Sam and Brooke came into view.

"May I ask what happened?," Brooke asked warily in her polished British accent.

"Bwandon-wandon got a wiwel cwanky," Skyler cooed in babytalk. Brandon rolled his eyes defensively.

"She force-fed me the food of the devil," he insisted. Skyler barked a laugh.

"You're just jealous because I can maintain my perfect figure while still eating superdy-duperdy unhealthy ice cream," she bragged. The underlying fib was not lost on her, but she reasoned with herself that it wasn't exactly a lie. She was eating ice cream, she just would later go through another action. She tried not to think about what would transpire later that night, and instead focused on the joy that coursed through her veins now. She was truly happy in that moment, surrounded by her friends, maybe even the new _best _friends that Sean had been talking about in his… note. She didn't know. But she did know that it was _quite _enjoyable watching Brandon struggle to wash the taste of mint chocolate chip ice cream out of his mouth.

**A/N: What did you think? I know, I know, I'm a shameless BramblexSquirrel fan. I hereby christen them… Skandon! (Skyler and Brandon…) Tell me in a review! And please, make your guesses about Thalia's unknown reason for being quite so against Brooke. I'd love to know what you're thinking… So, please, review! Thanks guys!**


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N: Sorry sorry sorry! I had some technical difficulties for a while, but here is the next installment… from LEAH'S POV! Whoo, hoo! Cue the confetti machine and cheering children… Unfortunately, my magical spell to morph me into Erin Hunter(s) did not work, and I still do not own Warriors. So, all Warriors credit goes to said author. Review! Note: NO EDIT ON THIS CHAPTER. And, I'm pretty tired. **

Leah drummed her fingers along the side of her binder, staring at her phone. Frustration coursed through her. Skyler was still, conveniently, avoiding her. Didn't she understand that _everything _would change due to her little stunt? It wasn't a mere vacation for everyone else. The entire family was broken! Leah surveyed the room around her. Flowers trailed out of plastic green pots, complete with notes conveying "love and support throughout this difficult time, and the reminder that God will make things right!" Leah gagged to herself, and spun in her seat, directing her attention at Clarke.

"You haven't said much about this, Clarky." He smiled softly at his old nickname, but Leah could see the remorse in his eyes. Her heart broke for him. Clarke and Skyler had always been more fitting playmates for each other when they were little. They were both energetic and outgoing, as opposed to Leah's simpleton idea of curling up with a cat being perfection. Of course, Clarke and Skyler had each grown fiercely independent, and almost resentful of each other's accomplishments. It had been a while since the two had even hung out, except for family things like Christmas. (In summer and spring breaks, Clarke insisted on staying with Bridget's family.) Leah had a sneaking suspicion that Clarke was currently overcome by guilt for the falling out.

"Isn't much to say. The police officer's in there, right?" Leah nodded quietly. Her father, mother, Clarke, and herself had returned to their Greenwich, CT home to 'heal,' as Mrs. Greyson had so lovingly put it. Even their hometown was being scoured for clues, the reasoning being that Skyler might have run back to her roots in a fit of restlessness. Leah chose to ignore how truthful the theory really was. "You shouldn't beat yourself up about Skyler, Clarke. She's the type of girl who would have wanted to go out with a bang, I guess. Besides, she was restless, and spontaneous, and fun. For all we know, she's in Hawaii, trying her luck as a hula dancer!" Leah treaded carefully around the truth in an effort to console him. She wanted more than anything to stop everyone's suffering, but she couldn't, she wouldn't, betray her sister. As ridiculous as the scheme was, Skyler was her sister, and sisters were bonded for life. It would be against a girl's nature to rat out a sister.

"Bridget said the exact same thing the other day. Well, not in so many words. But she was talking about God, and all that mindless shit-oh, don't make that face, it's true!-and she mentioned that Skyler had a 'creative mind,' as she called it. Somehow I don't think she'd do this to… not even me, but your mom and dad, and you, you know?" Leah bit her lip. Oh, she knew. In past days, she too would have thought her sister incapable of such selfishness, but apparently not. Against her better judgement, she opened her mouth to say something in agreement, but was promptly interrupted by a big burly man stepping out of her father's study. The sound of her mother's wailing filled the air. Leah's blood ran cold. Fear clenched her heart, obviously not for her sister, but for the sadness to come. She would have the part of a mourner to uphold, and it wasn't like everyone would treat her the same. She breathed deeply. It wasn't set in stone that Skyler would be pronounced dead quite yet Loads of people waited for all that heavy stuff. Natalie Holloway, for example. It would all be okay… Mom and Dad could just be thinking, or…

"What's happened?," Clarke asked anxiously. The officer sighed, and Leah knew that everything was over. They had decided.

"The funeral will be taking place soon."

**A/N: Sorry for the shortness! And, in my opinion, the suckiness. Please review! Thanks!**


	23. Chapter 22

"Does anyone know what we're actually supposed to be doing here?," Skyler hissed moodily to Thalia. Thick steam invaded her nostrils, the low ohm's reverberating through the air.

"Physical education. Apparently we're supposed to balance our bodies through meditation," replied Thalia with a hint of resentment in her voice. Skyler rolled her eyes in response, snorting loudly. The room collectively turned their heads towards her, glares plastered on their faces. Skyler rebelliously rolled her eyes again.

"I have allergies, and this incense is making them act up. Excuse me," she snapped. Calmly, she closed her eyes again, a faint reminder of a smirk on her face. Her stomach roared painfully, and she fought to keep the wince off of her face. It was just a bug. She had been in a plane, and gone to some crazy school, so she had to have caught a virus, right? Right.

"Now take one final breath in," the class leader, Ms. Clery, breathed. She raised her hands into the air as she spoke, filling her lungs with oxygen. "And class is dismissed! Remember to find your inner balance by drinking my new protein smoothies! Available now in the bookstore!" Skyler shouldered her bag immediately, and stormed out of the room. Her belly seemed to bubble with each step. When she finally got outside of the yoga cabin, she stopped short.

"God," she murmured to herself, gingerly placing a hand on her stomach.

"Feeling sick?" Brandon walked past her, the rest of the group trailing behind. Aside from Sam, none of them had found the perfect niche in the new school. Fallon, of course, was able to flit from clique to clique, handing out compliments, but she chose to remain with Crowell.

"Just my stomach," Skyler replied. "It's been bothering all day."

"Hey, maybe your slutty ways have finally paid off, and your pregnant," Crowell sneered. Skyler's blood boiled.

"Shut up, douche-bag," she spat. Crowell shot her the evil eye, mouth forming silent curses. Skyler smiled sweetly, an idea coming to her. "What, jealous that you haven't got some of this?," she teased seductively, gesturing up and down her torso. Crowell's face turned beet red.

"You're disgusting," he muttered to some point in the sky.

"Well, you're in luck, because as it turns out, there's no bun in this oven," she informed him, throwing her arm over his shoulder. "In fact," she continued, wagging her finger at him, "I'm still a virgin, so if you clean your nasty little attitude up, you just might be the first," she cackled. Thalia and Brandon each barked a gruff laugh, and Fallon seemed to be holding one in. Crowell threw her arm off of him.

"Don't be embarrassed about your undeniable lust for me. At your tender age, it's only natural for you to be feeling this way," she laughed viciously. "I want you to know, this won't affect our friendship. It doesn't change the way I feel about you-you'll always be my brother." She firmly put her hand on his shoulder, but he pushed her away roughly. She stumbled backwards, still laughing. Suddenly, her stomach jolted violently. It felt as if knives were ripping down her esophagus, leaving it on fire. She slapped her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to stop the bile rising in her throat.

"Jesus, Skyler, are you okay?," Thalia asked anxiously, putting a hand on her shoulder. Crowell stood to the side in shock. Skyler shook her head fiercely, shaking off the hand, stumbling towards the bathroom. Acid spewed through her fingers, leaving her doubled over in the pathway. More and more acid flecked the stone walkway until her stomach was completely emptied. The edges of Skyler's vision blurred towards the center until everything was black. There was no question in Skyler's mind of what had caused this. She really shouldn't have thrown up last night.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, I was at my grandparents, and… well, grandparents don't care much for wifi. I just got home. Anyways, side effects of bulimia are beginning to show themselves… Short, once again, but I haven't been completely inactive in my vacation! Another chapter will be posted in literally, around an hour. Review! Review! Review!**


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: This is a continuation of last chapter… I would have put this then, but she fainted, and it wouldn't sit right with me to have her wake up too too soon… Plus, I didn't know how long it was going to take, so I thought I'd give you something before everything. Btw, Bridezillas might be the best show ever. Along with Glee, Modern Family, Say Yes To The Dress, Pretty Little Liars, My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, and Downton Abbey. Okay, random moment over. I don't own Warriors! Please review!**

Skyler opened her eyes groggily to the sharp light piercing through the curtains. The sun hung low in the window, almost resembling a picture. Stabs pricked up her back, scraping against her throat. Where was she? How did she get there? Tiredly, she ran her hand over her shirt, looking to see if she was in a hospital gown. No, still her old clothes. She surveyed the room confusedly, taking stock of the furniture and walls. Despite the light filtering through the window, the room was left in the dark, with all the lights turned off. The only thing that was really in the light was a huge newspaper, clutched by somehow familiar hands.

"Who the fuck are you, and why the hell did you open the goddamn window?," she moaned, shielding her eyes. Suddenly, the newspaper folded in half.

"Good morning to you, too, sunshine," replied Brandon sarcastically. "Since we're in the same dorm, I was elected to play babysitter, and call an ambulance in the unlikely event of your death due to this-what did they call it again? Ah, yes-exotic stomach virus." Skyler groaned, pounding her fists on the mattress.

"Couldn't anyone more… _motherly _do it?," she asked, squinting. It wasn't that she didn't like Brandon, she did. But really, he wasn't the type to care for the sick. He'd probably just rip her a new one since she had obviously thrown up since they'd last, ah, _discussed _the matter. Looking back, 'motherly' did make it sound kind of awkward. And totally open to cruel comebacks. She mentally prepared herself for the reminder that she chose to leave her mother, so it wasn't really his fault. Surprisingly, Brandon just raised his eyebrows.

"Well, I could always go get the school nurse…," he offered, smirking.

"Oh, God, no!," Skyler screeched, horrified. Despite herself, she giggled with him at her immediate reaction, sending her head spiraling into her stomach. She leaned back into her pillows gingerly, clutching her belly.

"Shit, did the last five hours really happen?"

"Yup. And I'm not stupid, you know. Don't expect me to believe you just magically got some disease off of the plane a week after we were on the plane that no one else got when I saw what you did that night. You're bulimic."

"I'm not! Really, I just, uh… I just got a stomach bug. Maybe the germs and stuff were from my bed, and that's why no one else caught it," Skyler insisted. "Make sense?"

"God, you're in total denial, just admit you puke up your lunch!"

"No! Even if I do, it doesn't matter. Lots of people do it. You know, some girls use diet pills, and don't eat, I just throw up."

"Okay, first of all, that's called anorexia," Brandon replied doubtfully. "And saying that everyone does it is like saying that everyone is committing suicide. It's really like two people you hear a lot about since it's so shocking. You're only hurting yourself here."

"Well, then you don't have anything to worry about," Skyler pointed out decisively, crossing her arms.

"Maybe I just don't want to have to be accused of killing you when we get back to school, dragging your corpse."

"I'm not going to die! Jesus Christ, will you just mind your own business? I'm not going to take safety advice from the guy that forgot how to buckle his own seatbelt on a freaking plane!," she seethed, leaning forward threateningly. Brandon snorted incredulously, rolling his eyes.

"I just don't get why you, of all people, would have an eating disorder." Skyler opened her mouth to remind him that _she did not have a goddamn eating order, _but he continued. "Your entire family, like, lives the American dream. Big house, lots of money, lots of friends." Skyler sighed in defeat.

"We've been over this before," she said softly. "I live the American nightmare. Like, have you ever felt like someone's watching you, and they're just going to go blab everything you do to someone else, and suddenly you have to think through everything really carefully or you'll look like an idiot?" Brandon nodded. "That's my entire life. You know, even in my family, we all get the perfect grades, have the perfect friends, lead lots of extracurricular activities, and stay out of trouble. One mistake sets you apart from everyone else. Like, once I got an 89 on a test, and my dad told me he'd help me to study so I could 'do better next time,'" she explained, making air quotes. "My friend, she got a 76, and her parents gave her twenty dollars. I need to fill some big shoes. And, awful as it sounds, everything comes down to looks. I'm not a bitch for saying that, I'm a realist. If you saw a fat girl with braces and a skinny girl in really cute clothes, who would you be more likely to talk to?" Brandon squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "All I want to do is be good enough for my family. It really shouldn't matter to you _how _I do that," she scolded him halfheartedly.

"Wouldn't you think that running away would kind of throw that notion out of the window?," he responded curiously.

"No," she said immediately. "I don't know… how to… explain it, really. I just… God. That's _why _I left. I'm not going to do something special and cool while I'm stuck in some boarding school under the watch of tons of teachers. That's just so… generic, and stifling, you know what I mean? And I've heard what happens to the girls who are popular in high school. They overdose in a log cabin somewhere in Montana. Or, if they don't, they grow up to be the trophy wife of their high school sweetheart who they don't really love anymore, stuck at home with a baby boy and girl. I just want to do something with myself before it's too late," she finished wistfully in a soft, almost hurt, voice.

"You won't be like that," Brandon told her firmly. Skyler raised one eyebrow, and opened her mouth. "And, no, I'm not just saying that because you look like someone just ran over your puppy, I'm serious."

"Well then, how do you know that?," Skyler smiled.

"Because, as much as I hate to say it, you're popular for a reason. You're good at things. You're a people person, always talking to someone. And you actually are good at school stuff, too. All the druggies and trophy wives are blonde bimbos. Besides, what makes you think someone would even _marry _a soulless ginger?"

"Oh, don't discriminate!," she scolded incredulously. As Brandon kept laughing, she balled a pillow up, pouting. Finally, she lobbed it at his face.

"Jesus! But, see what I mean? You actually have good aim! Oh, and the fact that you're laughing at my pain only solidifies the theory that you ginges have no soul," he shot back.

"Your face is just so funny!," she cackled, ignoring the raging pain in her throat.

"I can practically see the demon possessing you. Go dye your hair brown."

"And look too much like you? No way!" The ringing sound of laughter faded, and the room descended into a comfortable silence.

"Skyler?," Brandon asked softly after a while.

"Uh, I'm still alive, if that's what you wanted to check," she laughed.

"No, seriously… Promise me you won't throw up again, okay?," he pressed bashfully, trying to make eye contact with her. She stared at her folded hands.

"I'll try," she muttered truthfully.

"Promise?," Brandon insisted. Skyler smiled sadly.

"I promise."

**A/N: What did you think? Review and let me know! Next chapter… A slightly artistic view of Skyler's 'funeral!' Artistic because it will kind of be jumping back and forth between Leah and Skyler. But, anyways, until next time! **


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N: Hi! I've returned! This is a kind of eccentric chapter, and it'll be switching POVS a bit, which will be marked by the line breaks. Anyways, I RECOMMEND listening to 'She's Leaving Home,' by The Beatles while reading this. Review please! I don't own Warriors!**

Skyler tip-toed up her cabin's stairs, clutching her phone. The click of footsteps rang through the hallway, and Thalia appeared. Skyler quickly bent over and erupted into a very convincing, but still fake, flurry of coughs.

"Hey, Thalia," she groaned in a raggedy voice. "I just felt, um, a little sick, so I think I'm going to go get some sleep." Thalia's face softened at Skyler's lie. It was easy to believe after she had barfed all over herself. She probably _did _need some sleep.

"Oh, ah, alright, Skyler," she said sweetly. "I'll just excuse you from class, okay? Feel better!" Skyler smiled to herself as Thalia retreated to class. She needed some time to think, all by herself. It wasn't that she exactly _regretted _leaving her home (she enjoyed everyone else's _[Brandon's] _company far too much for that), but she wasn't completely heartless. She knew she was loved back at home, and that her parent's life would be changed forever. And Leah was so furious with her… She just needed to explain herself a little bit.

Her laptop sat open on her knotted, wood desk that matched the mahogany walls of every building on campus. Already, a five-paragraph essay filled the screen, detailing the reasoning behind every action of Skyler's, and how Leah was obviously always the favorite, and Skyler just needed to _get out… _But it still wasn't enough. Somehow, everything made so much more sense when she was talking to Brandon about it. On paper, the arguments looked silly, and childish, easily defeated by more educated approaches to the situation. Like when she was fighting with Sean, and he was telling her how everyone loved her… She ran a hand through her messy hair, thinking to herself.

It wasn't that she hadn't received enough at home; she received everything she wanted. There was just so much more than material things to life. Deep down, Skyler knew that her family tried, and that maybe they thought that this is what she wanted. Yet, their good intentions didn't change anything, and Skyler's needs were left alone, forever overlooked for things like social functions and award ceremonies. Granted, the dresses she got to wear to those were adorable. Just not enough.

* * *

><p>Leah didn't understand what was going on. Well, that wasn't right. She understood that her sister was wrongfully having a funeral due to some petty need to break out of the family, and that her parents were sobbing in front of her while people she'd never met talked about how <em>very nice <em>Skyler was. She just didn't understand why. Tugging at her modest black shift, she sighed, trying to work up some tears. People were watching, like always, and the facade, though ridiculous, needed to be kept up. Or _Leah _would end up looking like the heartless bitch in this situation.

Truthfully, none of it made any sense. How could Skyler want a better lifestyle? She got everything! Designer clothes, the latest phones, tons of music for her extremely up-to-date iTouch. and how could she search for that better lifestyle in some mystery school in England? She was causing so much heartache, it couldn't possibly bring her happiness. It was just impossible. At least, to Leah it was. She was beginning to learn that the world didn't really work that way anymore, and some people were, for lack of a better word, batshit crazy.

"I-I just can't believe we lost her," Mrs. Finlay howled. _Yeah, right, _Leah thought to herself. Hello! They still had a daughter. Sure, this would be upsetting, but why not worry just a little about Leah? Oh, right, because it would be almost blasphemous to even acknowledge Leah as a daughter, seeing as Skyler just needed all the attention. All of it. Didn't she know that people had _dreams? _Her mom and dad could have done a lot more with their youth than scrounge the streets for money so Skyler could have the best. Even Leah was still worrying about her sister, caught up in all the games like they were a whirlpool. What more could Skyler want?

* * *

><p>Brandon contentedly surveyed the room around him, watching his new friends babble about life. His eye caught subconsciously on Skyler, taking in her sparkling eyes and bouncing step. Now that he saw her like this, he realized. She wasn't having <em>fun <em>being the perfect daughter at home. It was a necessary precaution, the part she was expected to play. At least when Brandon messed up, he wasn't destroying his entire family. Everyone already hated them.

Brandon didn't just tell her to stop throwing up because that's what you do when someone's bulimic. He actually was finding it easier and easier to understand Skyler, perhaps even more than her family did. And he was paying attention. Call him a nerd, but he knew about bulimics and their… methods. (Thank-you, freshman year health project.) They usually ran to puke fifteen minutes after a meal, and Skyler hung out with everyone for a while now. Plus, she ate really well, so it wasn't like she went on a binge. It seemed as if just being accepted was all she really needed to quit that nasty little habit. And maybe, just maybe, that was the one thing that money couldn't buy.

**A/N: I thought that that was going to be better than it was. Anyways, I just thought the song fit Skyler really well, so, I tried to squeeze it in before it was too late. You like? **


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N: Hellooooo, all my pretty little readers! I have a confession for you all. Sadly, I haven't read ****Sign of the Moon,**** the latest Warriors book yet. (I know, I know…) SO I will kind of be taking creative license with Tarver/Daelyn storyline, and also really concentrating on the Timothy Thomas thing. To do so, some POVs will be getting more attention in the future… (i.e. Liam and Jay!) I'm freaking out about this too, because they are legit, the effing BEST. And their parents are kind of made up, because Leah and Skyler and Brandon and Crowell are still teenagers too… Anyways, please review! I don't own Warriors. **

Liam strode down the school halls, paying no attention to the ever-ticking clock. If he had, he _might _have realized that he was around fifteen minutes late. But class was for losers. And, if he had learned anything in the past years, he was _not _a loser.

Maybe that's what stopped him from worrying about this huge court case thing. Holly kept on reading sections from law books to him on like, 'physical assault,' or whatever. Tarver wasn't even hurt! Just bleeding a bit, and maybe his face was kinda screwed up. Not like it wasn't before. (Haha. Isn't he funny?) Anyways, it really wouldn't affect his life. Everyone knew that he was just gonna end up as like, a football star and get a millions bucks _for _hurting people. He wasn't working in people services.

Languidly, he shoved open the door to the campus courtyard, whistling a tune vaguely reminiscent of 'Back To December.' (Not that he liked Taylor Swift. He only had a _few _of her songs on his iPod. Don't tell.) Fresh air washed over him, and he inhaled deeply, taking in the freedom of the outdoors.

"Liam Mason?" Liam jumped up at the sound of his name, whirling around. His hands instinctively curled into fists. "No, put your fists away, I just wanted to talk to you about your football talent," the voice reassured him. Relaxing, he lowered his hands into his pockets. A chuckling, scarred man stepped forward, hair slicked back. His face stirred some forgotten memory within Liam, but he ignored the initial instinct to run.

"Uh, um… Yes, sir?"

"Potential," the man enunciated. "You've got it. But I know from experience that college scouts don't pick based on _potential." _Liam's eyes widened.

"C-college?," he stuttered. Being a sophomore, he hadn't really thought as far as college yet.

"Yup," Mystery Man confirmed, popping the 'p.' "I can help you a lot with that… If you want." Liam nodded eagerly, leaning forward in anticipation.

"Wait," he realized suddenly. "Um, what's your name?"

"Timothy Thomas." The world almost screeched to a halt as everything clicked. The lurking, the secrets, the scar, and Liam knew for a fact that he had been first in line for a scholarship, until he lost out to Mr. Finlay for an 'undisclosed reason.' Hence, the whole, ever-lasting feud between the Thomas and Finlay families.

"I-I really should go." Liam may have been an idiot, but he wasn't dumb enough to spend his days with a convicted criminal. _That _wouldn't get him into college.

"You think I'm a real criminal, don't ya?," Timothy asked, almost reading Liam's mind.

"Well, uh…" _Yeah. Kind of. _

"Don't you know that I got released? They don't let just _anyone _out of the big house, kid. I'm reformed. Living with murderers can do that to you." Liam smiled dumbly, inching closer. "And besides, haven't you ever heard that we're family. I'm your… um, long-lost uncle. Right. Your mother's brother." Liam nodded along until he realized-

"Uh, my mom didn't _have _a brother. Both my parents were only children." Timothy colored for a fleeting moment, recovering almost instantly.

"That's what they want you to think. I was an embarrassment to the family, you see. Some might say I have…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Radical political views. Anyways, they kicked me out. But _I _never forget family bonds. We're blood brothers, you and I. We both aren't the… well, brightest. But we're brutally strong, and master strategists. We need to stick together."

"Dude, that's totally unrealistic! I've seen… like… family portraits!"

"Dude, I've seen, like, some old pictures of little kids I've never seen," Timothy mimicked. "Haven't you ever watched any reality TV? Oprah? These are real life stories, Liam. You're my nephew." Liam's face morphed into an incredulous smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, I mean, Holly always liked that, and she plays like, couch commando all the time…" He giggled nervously. "Dude, we're related!" He moved to give his uncle a hug, who frowned, shoving him away.

"No hugs. I'm not a huggy kind of guy. Now I just want to help you. How about you meet me, and some of my friends here at midnight on Mondays and Tuesdays, and then we can play some ball?" Liam nodded eagerly, moving to go back to his dorm. "Wait, Liam! If you're going to be the best, there are some vitamins I used to take. It's completely legal, don't worry. I mean, what kind of uncle would I be if it wasn't? Just, uh, well. They're quite rare, so it'd be best if you don't inspire jealousy in the competition by bragging about it. Besides, it probably wouldn't be the best to associate with me in public. Even I know that I've made quite a reputation for myself. Let's just watch their reaction when you become captain." Hesitantly, Liam grabbed the bag of white pills in Timothy's hand. He nodded gratefully, turning away. Something didn't feel quite right…

**A/N: Whaaaat? I know, Liam's an idiot. But what's in the bag, huh? Review and guess!**


	27. Chapter 26

**A/N: Well, it's Halloween at Four Oaks, since it's been 'two weeks to Halloween' for like, four weeks. Jay's POV, since this Halloween isn't SUPER festive… (Don't worry, we haven't gotten to Skyler's celebrations yet ;).) This will be kind of a filler chapter. I love writing for Jay though, because I get to make everyone else look like an idiot. I LOVE JAYFEATHER! JAYFEATHER FTW! *Outburst over.* I don't own Warriors. Please review!**

Jay barely winced as braille cut into his heavily callused fingertips. There was a thick smell of chocolate in the air, even in the library. Everyone's steps felt like they were heavier on the ground, laden down with various costumes. Holly sat somewhere to his left, scribbling straight out of a textbook, as if she actually cared what it said.

"Do you think there's going to be a party tonight?," Holly asked Jay, taking a break from her studies. He could hear the worry in her voice. He knew better than anyone her insane ambitions to be popular, but did his best not to feed them.

"I wouldn't be going anyways."

"Oh. Right." Holly sighed, disappointed, and made no move to return to her homework.

"Even if I were, I don't think there's going to be one this year. Finlay's been crazy since Skyler's funeral." The school had practically been on lockdown. Curfews were enforced, food in dorms was regulated, off-campus buildings were off-limits.

"Yeah, I guess so. But, do you think I could invite, I don't know, some girls or something to my dorm room? I read a great Halloween party idea in a magazine last week, and I don't want to forget it for next year. Plus, even if we're only sophomores, we're really forming our high school careers now, and I want to leave this school with something to show for it. And let me tell you, I gave a flawless scheme to snag class president in Skyler's, well, _absence, _if only I could get the right publicity. Wouldn't it be great if I won?"

"Super," Jay said monotonously, voice dripping with scorn. He couldn't help but think that it was sort of disgusting that she referred to Skyler's death so carelessly, but that was Holly for you. She ignored him.

"I was thinking, Liam could be a fabulous VP, but I might want to approach someone from a different dorm to broaden my appeal-"

"Hey, Holly?" Jay worked to make his voice sound peppy and enthusiastic.

"Oh, yes, Jay?" She leaned forward, expecting to hear some insight into her upcoming campaign.

"Shut up." For one, blissful moment, a hurt silence reigned. And then, who else would ruin it, but Liam?

He lumbered over, the fabric of his pants swishing against the other legs. His breathing was slightly muffled. For once, Jay was grateful he couldn't see whatever atrocity his brother was wearing. His sister's gasp was enough to tell him it was just as strange as Liam was.

"Oh. My. God." Apparently, Holly found whatever getup Liam was wearing ridiculous.

"Do you like it?" Of course not, dumbass. Could he hear her voice at all? "I thought it would be a cool costume. Because, like, we're old and stuff, but you know, we can have fun. So, uh, haters… HEAR ME ROAR!" Jay face-palmed at his brother's stupidity. It seemed as if he was dressed as a lion. How childish could one get?

Maybe it was because he was blind, but Jay never really got Halloween. It was basically a night for kids to disregard every rule in their life and go eat some stranger's candy. Because who would ever trick a sweet, innocent child into eating drugged candy? (Note the sarcasm.) Besides, he couldn't really see the costumes, so he never got to dress up. When he was very little, his mom used to dress him up, and his dad would take him out trick-or-treating with his siblings, but then they grew up, and who wanted to take care of their blind brother while they were supposed to be running around getting a sugar high. So Halloween was really just a day for Jay to sit inside, eating the leftover candy from the bowl they left outside.

"I'm going to get a drink," Jay announced, prepared to leave his siblings alone to bicker.

"Do you want help?," Holly offered, in what she thought must have been a kind way. Jay's blood boiled. He was perfectly capable of walking down the hall, blind or not. He had survived for fifteen years, had he not?

"Of course not," he seethed, reaching for his dog's stiff leash. Pilot raised his head questioningly, pushing himself up. Jay rubbed his soft head pensively as he walked. Why did he have to be blind Why couldn't it have been Liam, or Holly, or the guy that lived next door? Anyone else… It really wasn't fair. Suddenly, he hit a suspiciously soft wall.

"Oh, sorry!," a voice squeaked. Rawdon, Jay guessed to himself. The guy was always terrified of _something. _

"It's fine." Jay could still feel waves of fear radiating off of Rawdon as he bent to get a drink from the water fountain. "Jesus, can you calm down?," he snapped suddenly. "You're making me jumpy." Rawdon nodded sorrowfully.

"Sorry. Or, um, not sorry. But, uh. I saw something I shouldn't have, and- I should stop talking." Jay raised his eyebrows, straightening.

"No, continue. I won't tell what you say." Rawdon squirmed in his place.

"Um. Well, I was walking home from a party one night, and I decided to take a shortcut. But, with my luck, I got lost." Jay snorted. Of course Rawdon would get lost. "And I walked by an alley. I'm not completely stupid, so I didn't go down the alleyway, but I saw a guy. With a knife. And there was another guy. And the first guy killed him." _No, really?, _Jay thought to himself. He pushed back his thoughts for the sake of hearing the full story.

"Do you know who it was?" He couldn't help the hint of apprehension in his voice.

"Well, I didn't see the dead guy, because he was facing the other way. But, um, I think I saw the killer."

"And?" Jay leaned in impatiently. How come this guy couldn't just spit it out?

"It was Timothy Thomas. Please don't tell! He'll kill me! I mean, no one believes me, but I know, I just know…" Jay wasn't really surprised at the killer's identity. In fact, he found it surprising that more of the recent crimes weren't blamed on the recently released fugitive. Everyone knew that most people didn't just fix themselves. Look at Lindsay Lohan! How many times was she arrested? How many rehabs had she checked into? Well, that was getting off-topic.

"You need to tell someone," Jay said immediately. He could almost see Rawdon's incredulous face.

"But who would believe me? I have no proof!" Jay rolled his eyes, twisting Pilot's leash in his hands.

"You need to do research, of course. Read stories on recent, unsolved mysteries in the papers. Get your timing exact. You'll have a case. No one likes Timothy Thomas, anyways. Trust me. You have to do something. Or do you just want a bunch more people to get themselves killed?"

"That's just it!," Rawdon protested. "He'll kill me!"

"How do you know?," Jay retorted. Rawdon went quiet.

"He told me."

**A/N: The plot thickens! You like, you love? Review please! And, happy kind-of Halloween! Oh, and happy almost-4th of July! Review please!**


	28. Chapter 27

**A/N: I'm really sorry… I've been grounded for a bit :(. Buuuut… I'm back! No edit, though, so I could get it to you faster. And now, the New Prophecy team celebrate Halloween with the Brits. Because I couldn't wait to write this. I'm warning you, I had no real plan for this chapter, so it's absolutely insane. Everything in my imagination is crammed into this… Hint: England's drinking age is younger than America's…**

"How old are you guys again?" Skyler frowned pensively at Brandon, Fallon, and Sam. "Because you might actually be able to legally buy us all alcohol here. I can get it when I'm with an adult, and eating. But, that wouldn't be any fun, would it?" Brandon's lips quirked into a smile.

"Are you seriously asking this?" Skyler bit her lip, fighting a smile.

"Yes!," she insisted. "It's Halloween, and we're in England. Girls like me don't run away so they can go to another school. I want to have fun! Make it worth it! But I draw the line at slutty costumes," she warned, raising a finger. "I want to have fun, not get raped." Everyone looked at her, slightly disgusted and amused. "I know, I've seen too many horror movies. But really, those outfits are disgusting. Everyone took Health class. We all know what those girls have… got. I'm just being a flapper. Anyways, how old are you?" Brandon sighed.

"17."

"Sam and I just turned 18. We started school late," Fallon explained. Skyler squealed.

"Yay! You can buy the booze! I'll pay you guys back later! Please, please, please help me get into a pub? Please, please, _pleeeeaaaaase?" _"That would be classy," Sam pointed out sarcastically. Skyler smirked back.

"Come one, live a little. Invite Brooke, or something." No one missed how his face lit up at the suggestion.

"Do you have any extra costumes?"

"What happened to being classy?," Skyler retorted cleverly. Sam scowled defensively.

"Shut up or you're not going to any pubs."

"_Aaaaand_ I'm being quiet."

"For the first time ever," Brandon added, earning hearty laughs from everyone but a quite red Skyler. She socked Brandon on the arm, pursing her lips. Bashfully, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't talk _that _much," she defended herself, staring determinedly at a point on the wall. Her only response was Brandon snorting water out of his nostrils because he laughed while drinking.

* * *

><p>Skyler smiled against the clouded brown rim of what she was fairly certain was her second beer-she had always had a low alcohol tolerance, though, so she wasn't quite positive if she was fit to count at that exact moment. The air rang with a somehow comfortable mix of northern English accents and Top 100 music. The hanging lights shook in the ceiling. She barely turned her head as skin brushed against her, slowly growing used to the busy bustle of the bar they had chosen-something called the Lucky Hound?.<p>

"Helloooooo, there." Skyler jumped when a drunken voice rang right beside her ear. She turned her head a fraction to the left, coming face to face with a lean, tall man sporting a loosely hanging white t-shirt. His hair was gelled to spike towards the sky, shining in the dim light of the bar. He dragged a seat over, indicating his firm intention to stay. She maintained her position leaning cooly against the counter

"Hi," she responded dismissively, raising her eyebrows at him as she turned back to the raging scene in front of her. He chuckled lightly.

"You're-you're American…"

"Duh."

"Americans are cool," the guy insisted, his words drunkenly blending into one. "You're… you're cool. We-you should give me your number." He straightened as if he'd just discovered the answer to world hunger. Skyler turned towards the counter, smiling nervously and placing her drink on the table. She waved her hands in protest.

"No…," she refused.

"Yes…," he retorted. "Or we could… gettaknoweachothernow." He giggled at himself. Skyler cringed inwardly at his words.

"I don't think so," she said, surprising even herself at the coolness in her tone. Calmly, she moved towards the crowd of people. Maybe it was time she… left. She intended to do just that, when a warm hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Why not?" She turned to see the same man she was leaving pouting back at her. She yanked back her arms, giving him her best death glare. "Why can't you just let me ask you some questions?," he demanded.

"Because I don't feel like giving you an answer." Proudly, she stormed dramatically away, only to be pulled back once again. "Seriously, would you stop it?" She struggled against his surprisingly firm drunken grip, but he refused to let go. "Stop it!," she screeched. He smiled slightly sardonically, and her heart sped up and her eyes squeezed shut. All that was on her mind was missing ads on milk cartons, and how one day a girl just like her would probably watch this on Unsolved Mysteries or something. It felt like she was just watching a movie of herself while the guy dragged her towards the door. How could _no one _notice? She was in the midst of tons of people, she just needed someone to look harder.

_Thunk. _Skyler opened her eyes cautiously, incredulous to see her wrist freed, and the man lying unconscious on the ground. Her mouth hung open in shock over everything that had just transpired. She looked before her to see an equally shocked Brandon, who was gaping at the body.

"He's unconscious," Brandon confirmed uselessly. Despite herself, Skyler rolled her eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock. You punched him. Hard." Brandon looked up at her incredulously.

"He was going to kidnap you _while _you were already missing; you'd be doubly missing! And who would look for someone who's supposed to be dead?," he exclaimed defensively. He had a point.

"Well, I wasn't thrilled about him kidnapping me without that charming thought. But thank-you, I guess. I would not want to be _'doubly _missing,' as you put it." She frowned bashfully at the ground, arms crossed over her chest. She was very competitive, and she hated admitting someone else did a better job at anything than her, even in life-threatening situations. Brandon nodded.

"Let's go back to campus," he suggested. Skyler brightened.

"Where's everyone else?" Brandon shook his head briefly.

"Something about getting dinner, or whatever. I'll just get a taxi." Skyler's cheeks reddened at the suggestion of being alone in a taxi. Though it probably _was _the logical thing to do. Her stomach churned a little bit with… She would never admit it, but maybe an apprehensive excitement. She tried to hide a nervous smile.

"Let's go then."


	29. Chapter 28

**A/N: GUESS WHAT IIIIIII GGGOOOTTTTT! Guess, guess, guess! SIGN OF THE MOON. Finally. I haven't read a lot yet, but I thought I'd do a quick chapter surrounding the three-ish/four-ish. Warning: I have a little bit of writer's block. So, I just settled for a more romance-geared chapter that introduces a brand new character! You get to guess who in your reviews… But it's pretty easy. I'm working on a super dramatic first meeting between Liam and Timothy Thomas (which really sounds like a cartoon name.) **

Liam bit his lower lip. Homework was so _boring. _And stupid. And just sucky in general. Tiredly, he popped one of his new pills in his mouth, feeling energy rush through him at just the thought of the medicine. He didn't even think about how he was deceiving Jay and Holly, and even Cindy. (He was pretty sure they were going out. Well, they hadn't talked or anything, but you know. It made sense.)

Restless, he rose from his seat, tripping down the dorm's stairs. Maybe he'd go play basketball or something in the gym, or call a friend. It wasn't that late, only eleven or so. Someone would probably be up.

Maybe it was the time that made Liam careless while he was wandering the halls. Whatever the reason, it wasn't long before he crashed into something quite short. Or, petite was the polite word, right? Holly told him that every time they were in public together and saw a midget.

"Uh, sorry…," he apologized hastily. "There's not supposed to be people in the hallway now." The girl he knocked into let out an indignant squeak.

"Hypocrite! Besides, I'm new. I have no idea what your rules are. I'm just looking for the Wind Dorm, whatever that is." Liam chuckled, but frowned soon after. "What's the matter?," the girl asked impatiently.

"Nothing… I just don't talk to people from the Wind Dorm a lot. Want me to show you there?"

"Yes, please," she agreed, picking up a suitcase that Liam hadn't yet noticed. She whisked a wisp of willowy blond hair behind her ear, sticking out her other hand. "I'm Heather," she announced.

"Liam," he smiled back. "Have you gone to the office yet?"

"Oh, yeah. The secretary seemed pretty tired, so I didn't make her show me my dorm. I thought that would be kind of cruel."

"What grade are you going into?"

"Freshman year. What about you? Have you gone here long?" Liam nodded.

"Yeah. Well, I'm only a sophomore, but it feels like forever. My parents went here too, so I know it from alumni ceremonies. And right before I started here, we took a tour so my brother would learn his way around the school, and my sister and I could help to lead him around, and stuff. He's-. He's blind," Liam told her awkwardly, looking at the floor. He could almost hear Jay hissing in disgust at his quick confidence in a total stranger.

"That must be hard for your family," Heather said quietly.

"It is. But, you know, whenever I get upset about spending all of our time on him, I just remember that he's got it a lot harder. Not seeing, and all."

"That's so sweet of you," Heather gushed, color tinting her cheeks. "I wish I had a brother like you." Now it was Liam's turn to blush.

"Do you? Have siblings, that is." Heather looked at the ground.

"No. My mom died in childbirth, so it's just me and my dad. He has a girlfriend, and I think he's gonna pop the question soon, but… I dunno. It feels wrong to call someone else 'mom.' Like I'm forgetting that I don't have a mom, and being too happy about it all." She smiled sadly. "Sometimes, I like to think that I can remember her voice, just a little bit. Like, right before she died, maybe. I know it's not possible, it's just nice to think about." Liam's eyes widened. He didn't have it nearly as bad as he thought. Especially not now that he had Timothy back in his life. It was great! But poor Heather…

"Oh, God… I'm sorry, do I seem like a complete closet case? I just… I'm not as depressing as I just made myself seem. I'm just tired, and I saw an engagement ring before I left. I panicked. Sorry." Liam laughed.

"That's fine. My greeting wasn't exactly light and fluffy, either. We can be closet cases together." Heather giggled just as they entered Wind Dorm. She paced deeper inside the tall, lass building, smiling.

"I think I'll like it here," she grinned to Liam. "Thanks for taking me here. I had fun with you tonight… Closet case. Maybe we can do this again sometime." Liam's mouth went dry. He felt a little guilt, but pushed it away immediately. Heather was great.

"Definitely!" He was pretty sure he and Cindy weren't going out yet. They hadn't talked, or anything. It wouldn't make sense.


	30. Chapter 29

**A/N: Okay, I finished Sign of the Moon last Sunday afternoon, and am I the only one who thinks that Dovepaw is insanely popular? Because Tigerheart, Foxleap, and Bumblestripe are all in love with her… That's like a love… square. (DovexTiger all the way!) Anyways, I now have new Daelyn material, and we can all rejoice, and a LOT of storylines are being tweaked to make it make sense. Like, in terms of Liam and Ivy start hanging with the Dark Forest crew at the same time and stuff. It will all come together though. Ivy's POV. I think I'm gonna solidify a list of POVs soon just to make it easier… Woah, long note, here we go!**

Ivy flicked her raven black ponytail over her shoulder. The watery light of the moon drifted through the thicket of trees. She was almost shaking with elation. That man-Scott, right?-had been so nice to her. Finally someone saw how hard she worked to be like Daelyn.

Everyone knew Daelyn, even if she didn't realize it. Everyone knew the girl who painted the frighteningly realistic pictures, and got straight As on everything. She didn't even study! And no one ever considered that maybe, the reason Ivy did so poorly on tests was because she was so tired from rereading all her textbooks until dawn.

Finally, the same man came into view. He was perched in the football field stands. A few boys were crowded around an eerily familiar man tossing around a football. Before Ivy could even call out, Scott strode over to her.

"Ivy, welcome to the Forest College Training Program! This is where we work with students to improve their chances of receiving a scholarship to some of the country's best schools." Ivy's face lit up. "It's still a work in progress, but we've gotten off to a good start. In fact, one of our students just got a free ride to Harvard! That could be you soon." Ivy shook her head bashfully.

"No, no, really. I couldn't… I'm not _that _smart." Scott smiled.

"But you could be. You know, Daelyn wouldn't even get in paying, I can guarantee that. You have a fighting chance. We like hard workers like you."

"Oh, well… Thank-you!"

"You're quite welcome. Now, it's your first time, so I imagine you'd like a quick tour. Before we start, I want to tell you that this site is temporary. We're in the process of leasing a building with many more resources. In the mean time, let's get started." He gestured to the huge, lit up field in front of them. "Here is where we're training our more athletically geared students. Liam, for instance, could easily be a football prodigy." Ivy nodded appreciatively, watching the sophomore play. She wasn't exactly shocked that he was there, maybe just lightly surprised. He always seemed too busy and popular to worry about things like college. It only confirmed that this was a good idea. If Liam Mason was ready to participate, everyone should be.

"Next, over in the stands and maintenance cabins, we have a few students, like you, who show potential in academics. Like I said, by your next session, we'll probably have a more permanent and appropriate setting for all of this. It will have a gym, a pool, several rooms which we will stock with desks, etc.. I'll make sure you know the location."

"Um… how?" Ivy looked over at Scott, who pouted.

"We will, okay? We have ways." It was Ivy's turn to frown.

"I just don't understand… You don't have any of my info, or anything-"

"Do you want help or not?," Scott snapped. Hesitantly, she nodded holding back a yawn. Scott visibly relaxed.

"Alright. It's getting late. We've spent a lot of time touring. We won't have time to really do anything today, so let me just give you this." He handed her a cylinder filled with Aderol. "It will help you concentrate."

"I don't have ADD though," she pointed out.

"It's just a little help. Don't worry about it. You trust me." Ivy snatched the pills. She _did _trust Scott. He just seemed… Nice. "If you don't hear from me, come here at the same time next week. We're going to change your life. Are you ready?" Ivy smiled. Was she ready to let her sister know what it felt like to be an idiot? Oh, yeah.


	31. Chapter 30

Brandon sat stiffly in his seat, not daring to move. Almost immediately after hailing a cab home from the bar, Skyler had fallen asleep. On his shoulder.

It was easy to forget that the rebellious girl was really still a child. Her whole life she had been paraded around as a princess, and had an air of authority around her. Everyone expected her to have magically inherited all of her father's best traits. She never had time to mess up; there was always a camera pointed at her. Not even just at school; her family was famous in the entire country! She was a socialite. Like, a classy Olivia Palermo.

Scenery flew past the taxi window like a movie on fast-forward. The comforting light of the moon drifted over the tall trees lilting the road, making everything in sight glow like a fairytale. It would have been beautiful, were it not for the drunk men stumbling out of bars, laughing and vomiting on the pavement as if they didn't have to go to work tomorrow, as if they wouldn't be completely hungover, and the stray dogs lapping at puddles of oil and rain. The last stars winked down, sharing an inside joke with the nightly wanderers. He struggled to keep his own eyelids from drooping; the taxi driver didn't have the faintest idea where campus was, and it was up to Brandon to navigate.

Sleepily, Skyler shifted against his arm. He blushed at the contact. A month ago, he probably would have thrown up at the thought of sitting in a taxi with her, and now he was, well, almost _happy _to be spending the time with her. Everything about her seemed so much more genuine outside of her little fishbowl. That night at the bar, when that creep was lurking around Skyler, Brandon had felt a certain stab of protectiveness, and not just because he wasn't dragging her dead body around. That guy didn't _deserve _Skyler. He had no idea who she was, and what she had gone through to be where she was. She was different from the other 'pretty girls.' She understood responsibility, she just didn't want to get stuck with things that were obviously someone else's problem.

"We're here," the cabbie announced. Brandon jumped out of his sleepy thoughts hastily.

"Right, um, thanks," he said, handing the man a few pounds. Biting his lip anxiously, he looked at the girl who was deeply asleep next to him.

"Uh, Skyler?," he whispered, shifting his weight so he leaned against the door. "We-we're… Um, it's time to get out." In response, she murmured something unintelligible, sinking into his chest. Awkwardly, Brandon tapped her on the shoulder. "We're at school. You, uh, gotta wake up."

_"Shut. Up," _she mumbled sleepily. Brandon resisted the urge to laugh. He pitied her parents for having to wake her up everyday.

"The police are here."

"Holy shit!" She shot up, rubbing her eyes. She scanned the premises, searching for any offending police officers. "Jerk," she shot at Brandon, chuckling despite herself. He raised his hands defensively.

"You weren't waking up any other way!" She blushed when she realized she had fallen asleep on him.

"Sorry about that," she muttered. "Falling asleep, and all." Brandon's ears were tinged red.

"S'okay." They climbed out of the cab, Skyler stumbling slightly. Her eyes drooped, and she leaned against Brandon.

"You know once I slept through a fire drill? And when my dad came to wake me up, I slapped him in my sleep. Be glad you still have four limbs." Brandon chuckled.

"Devil child." Their arms were subconsciously intertwined. Neither moved away.

Brandon stopped short when he saw the neon yellow caution tape glinting gold in the moonlight. The round helmets of British bobbies rose into the night, filling his heart with apprehension. Was that girl crying? Why was Mr. Stoneteller looking so grim? Beside him, Skyler stiffened.

"Do… Do you see something on the ground?," she breathed.

"Like… What?," Brandon responded in the same tone. Skyler gulped.

"Like… A body?"

**A/N: Dun, dun, dun, dun… The Sharptooth saga begins! Prepare. Review, review, review!**


	32. Chapter 31

Liam flipped back and forth between pages in his textbook blankly. His arms ached from long nights of training, and he itched for a vitamin. The very thought of them renewed his vigor. Desperately, he looked at the time. 1:03. There were still fifty-seven minutes left in study hall.

At the front of the room, Mr. Greyson lounged in his chair, chucking a foam basketball at a hoop he had installed in the wall. Mentally, Liam calculated how to slip away from class and retrieve a pill. The dorm wasn't _that _far away. Cautiously, he rose and tip-toed towards the door. _One foot left, six inches, almost there-_

"Hey! Liam. Goin' somewhere?" Mr. Greyson looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. The basketball bounced through the hoop and to the ground.

"Uh, bathroom." Liam frowned at the unfamiliar sound of his voice. It sounded deeper than usual.

"'Fraid I can't do that. Testing going on, and I don't feel like losing my job today, so… I don't know, invest in an adult diaper or something for next time." Liam's insides wrestled with each other in anguish. He desperately needed a pill, if only to help him last through the day. He didn't have training that night, but it couldn't hurt to keep up his strength. _Please, please, _please, _let Mr. Greyson change his mind, _he begged silently.

"I _really _have to go," he said out loud.

"I suppose peeing out of the window is out of the question," Mr. Greyson mused. "I think I actually did that once. Wasted, of course. Think that was actually the first night Fred hooked up with Sandra… Great party, great party." The entire room looked at him as he molded the foam ball in his hands, lost in a memory. Realizing all of his students' curious stare, he broke out of his reverie, clearing his throat. "Um, right. Uh, yeah, hold it, I guess. Testing might be done early and you can get out. Believe me, I'd let you go if I could. I'm not a daycare teacher; I don't wanna have to clean up any accidents you guys have today."

"Sir, _please." _Tears threatened Liam's eyes. He blinked them away stubbornly. He craved that pill, _needed _it with every fiber in his being. His body twitched uncontrollably at the though of another hour of waiting.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Greyson insisted.

"Please, I just really have to go!," Liam begged. The room began to stare now at his mini breakdown. "I just… I need to go _now!" _His hands rose to his face and his feet pounded the floor. He didn't care that people were watching, or that he was about to give away his secret, he just had to get to his dorm.

"Liam," Mr. Greyson started cautiously in a gentle tone. "Is there something, ah, _going on _that I should know about?" Liam's blood froze. He couldn't know, not possibly. If he did, that would mean Liam _failed _Mr. Thomas. He couldn't let out the secret to anyone. Avidly, Liam shook his head.

"No, I just gotta go." Despite his best efforts, his voice broke. When he failed to receive permission, he growled. _"Let me go!," _he yelled childishly. "If you don't let me go, I'll-I'll…" Mr. Greyson rose from his seat in slow motion, examining his student's face. Gone was the playful teacher that ignored all of the rules, and in it's place was a rare, somber man. Something moved in his eyes, and with a jolt Liam realized that it was fear. Subconsciously, Liam had crossed the floor to stand inches from his teacher's face, fists clenched.

"I can't let you do that. Liam, I promise you will be okay if you would please just _sit down." _At Liam's detrimental expression, his face softened. "Are you feeling alright?," he frowned. "You're acting strangely." Liam shook his head silently, eyes blank. "Why don't you just head over to the nurse?," Mr. Greyson suggested, writing a pass with his eyes still focused on Liam. "If you see anyone in the hallway, tell them I gave you _explicit permission _to be there. But go straight to my wife's office, okay? Don't linger anywhere." Eagerly, Liam snatched the pass, practically sprinting out of the building. Once he passed the green, he desperately threw open the door to his dorm.

Luckily, Jay was absent at the time, off somewhere reading, probably. Not even bothering to get a glass of water, Liam retrieved his pills in an instant, and swallowed one dry. _Sweet relief. _

**A/N: Super short filler chapter, but I had a little bit of writer's block. Review!**


	33. Chapter 32

**A/N: Hey! Sorry for the wait, I had some maaaaaajor writer's block goin' on! Haha, well, that passed, and now, another chapter from our **_**darling **_**Ivy's POV. Enjoy!**

Ivy's fingers flew across the screen of her iPhone, desperately searching for a text from Scott. Not that she really cared. But she did feel just the _tinsiest _bit cooler since she had met up with him, and he wasn't completely unattractive. He was out of her league, of course. It wouldn't be that way for long though, and why shouldn't she want the best? Daelyn got it. Ivy certainly could.

She allowed herself the smallest smile when she finally got the message. To most, her face was as cold as stone. Only those who really knew her could even tell. And of course, one of those few people happened to be right across the room from her, staring longingly at her sister-turned-enemy.

"Hey! What's up?" Ivy rolled her eyes at Daelyn's enthusiastic tone. _As if. _The girl was obviously peeing her pants with nerves. As she should be. Ivy wasn't really in the mood to make friends.

"Other then finding out that my own sister is so friendless that she needs to stalk me, nothing. Why would there be?" Daelyn's smile faltered.

"I just thought that maybe, you, um… Looked kind of happy. That's all." The blonde lingered for a while, staring anxiously at her twin's phone. Ivy shot her a look. "Dad called me. He's worried about you, _really _worried. Apparently you haven't answered any of his emails, or-"

"Look, Daelyn, I didn't want to have to do this, but… It's time someone pops you out of the little utopian bubble you live in. In a few years, we're going to graduate, and the time is going to come when we need to get into colleges. _Everyone's_ reputations are really on the line here. And, with a family like the one we have, ours just might be on the chopping block. I've met some people who can help me change that."

Daelyn frowned. It was well-known that only legacies and rich kids got into the Ivy Leagues. But that had never been a problem before. It was mainly decided that some small, Division 3 school would do.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just reality. Can you leave now?" Ivy smirked in satisfaction at her sister's insulted face. It was twisted in an odd expression of disgust. "Why are you being such a _bitch?," _Daelyn spat suddenly. Ivy's eyes widened.

"Me? I was just minding by own beeswax when you decided to come stalk me!" Daelyn barked a sardonic laugh.

"Stalk you? I'm your sister, idiot!"

"Then try being _nice _to me!"

"Are you-? Oh my God. I can't even talk to you. You're insane. You're _literally _insane." Ivy subconsciously noted the gathering crowd of people. She growled under her breath, ignoring Daelyn's fervent ranting. She wanted attention, but not _this _kind. Couldn't her sister see how much of an idiot she was?

Daelyn turned away furiously, stomping towards the door. Despite herself, Ivy was watching her sister's every move. But one thing in particular caught her eye. That _Tarver, _was it? He seemed particularly anxious to get to her sister on time. and was he whispering something to her?

_Oh, _this was just too good.

**A/N: Short, I know, but next chapter will be back in England so it will be pretty long. I tend to enjoy those chapters more. I just wanted to escalate the sisterly tension, lol. Sorry! **


	34. Chapter 33

Skyler had never been one to bite her nails. Not since first grade, that is-her mom had gotten her weekly manicures so that she would feel guilty ruining her nails. Eventually, Skyler just stopped biting her nails. But the worst in people always comes out when they're under pressure. And, given the circumstances at that instant, Skyler was at her _very, very _worst.

Who wouldn't be when they discovered that their exchange school was being plagued by a serial killer? Not even a hot one, like in all the horror movies. But an ugly-ass, creepy, stalker of a murderer. That kind of stuff tends to make one uncomfortable, to say the least.

And of course there was the one problem that all girls had: boys. Last time she'd talked to Brandon, they'd been like, uber close to each other. And it didn't make her uncomfortable at all. In fact, it was kind of enjoyable. Hey, she liked the kid. Not, _like-like. _Because he was Brandon, and that would be weird and awkward and awful on so many different levels. It occurred to Skyler, of course, that her problem might be the teensiest bit irrelevant at the moment, with dead students everywhere, and such. But if they did survive this whole mess, what would happen? Life and death situations make people see life in a whole new light. What if he kissed her? What if she kissed him? What if they were torn apart by their vastly different social classes? Oh, the agony of waiting. Couldn't they just kinda, scoot? Ya know, like, avoid the danger and go home? Screw England. Skyler had come on the pretense that there would be hot guys here who would help her get over her sucky life. Yet the only remotely attractive guy within a 100-mile radius was still American. And completely wrong. (No one needs to know that, though. In fact, that little piece of information should probably be kept a secret, thank-you very much. So just forget about it. Don't tell.)

"Is-Isn't it just _awful?," _Fallon sobbed into Crowell's shoulder. "That poor kid's _parents!" _Personally, Skyler felt a little more for the guy who was killed than his parents, but, hey, to each their own. "I just _can't believe it! _How could this _happen?" _Her sniffling voice was beginning to rub Skyler the wrong way. Couldn't a girl brood in peace? At Fallon's last, hideous wail, Skyler lost it.

"You don't even _know _the guy; just shut up about it already!" Told you Skyler was at her worst. She was in queen-bitch mode.

A nearby table of mourners turned to glare at her, but she paid them no heed. It bothered her more that her little bubble of American friends looked so appalled, too. She growled under her breath, flicking an auburn strand of hair over her shoulder. It was beginning to morph into a browner, maturer, sophisticated version of the current color. It looked kinda pretty, she guessed.

"Look, I came here to get away, and it's not exactly been the trip of a lifetime, 'kay?" Everyone continued to stare blankly at her. At least Fallon had quit mimicking a foghorn. Skyler rolled her eyes, blinking back stressed-out tears. "Whatever, I'm just… I'm going to my room," she muttered. Then, like the spoiled princess brat everyone expected her to be, she stormed towards the door.

"I'm sorry ma'am, you're going to have to remain in this room for safety reasons," some Irish dude reprimanded her. She glared at him. Like she gave a shit about the rules. She fucking _ran away _last year. He held his ground. She was like, _this close _to knocking him out when-

_BAM! _A window broke open. The room flew into a frenzy.

_Oh, Jesus __**Fucking**__ Christ, _Skyler thought to herself moodily. _Really? They plan their big entrance __**now? **_Whatever. She was over this whole trip.

Perhaps her sense of self-preservation kicked in when she saw the guy in a ski-mask holding a gun, but all of a sudden, she didn't seem quite so cool anymore.

"Hi," she tried lamely when he approached her. "I don't have any money!," she attempted again. The man kept coming closer. Skyler's body seemed frozen. It was impossible to process what was going on. She itched to be somewhere else as she saw his hand crawling towards the trigger. And then, suddenly, reflexively, she flew her foot out, landing perfectly in his groin. _Hi-ya!, _she thought. Vaguely, she remembered a time her mother told her to punch a pillow when she felt angry. She looked at the guy. He looked fat enough to act as a pillow, if only for a bit. She pummeled him with fist after fist, stretching her legs out so that she could get in the best kicks. She felt powerful. And as wrong as it was, she felt good.

"Well, all those self-defense classes finally payed off," she mused to no one in particular, giggling as the attacker scrambled away to go torture some other girl.

Skyler jumped as she felt a hand clasp over her arm. Fists clenched, she wheeled around to see an anxious-looking Brandon, scanning the room for the remainder of their posse.

"We gotta get outta here," he explained, dragging her towards Crowell and Fallon, who were locked in what would be a very private, passionate embrace, were it not the middle of an attack. "Come on!," Brandon urged, grabbing the back of Crowell's shirt. "Where's Thalia?"

"Here!," they heard from behind them. Skyler grabbed her friend's hand, yanking her towards the group.

"Is that everyone?," she asked desperately. She was so, so ready to leave. Brandon nodded, pulling the string of high-schoolers out the door and towards the cabs. "Clothes!," Skyler squealed lamely, leaning towards her cabin.

"Skyler, you might not be _alive _after this. The clothes won't matter much, then," Brandon reprimanded her.

"What if I wanted to wear something nice to my funeral?," she muttered to herself. She'd hoped Brandon wouldn't hear, but she knew he did when he raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say, _really? _Luckily, she caught a trace of a smirk on his face.

The group plowed on, running at various speeds towards the road. Suddenly, Fallon stopped, hand clasped to her heart.

"Sam!," she exclaimed, looking a little guilty that she'd forgotten her own brother. _Shit, _Skyler thought. Sam had become one of her best friends, and as much as she wanted to go home, she couldn't leave one of her best friends. The sound of a scuffle rang behind them.

"Lemme _go, _those are my friends-Brooke? Brooke, come on, please!" Skyler recognized Sam's voice instantly. Instinctively, she ran toward it.

"Skyler!," Brandon called behind her. "Skyler, wait, that's really dangerous, stop! _Please!_" Did he sound _distressed? _Wow, Skyler really was a charmer if _Brandon _was distressed over her running into danger.

"We can't leave him!," she yelled over her shoulder. She smiled to hear the footsteps of her friends behind her. They would help. She knew it.

"Just, stay for a while, and _help! _You're the strongest of your group, we _need you!," _Skyler heard Mr. Stoneteller telling Sam. Was he insane? Did he know how much he was gonna get sued for? He was basically sentencing an innocent teen to death. And what was Brooke doing? She seemed to be begging, pleading with Sam to just cooperate. Skyler's lip curled. Ugh, what a _bitch. _All good thoughts about the welcoming girl vanished. Angrily, she swung her foot into the girl's face. Damn, she was on a roll today.

She vaguely registered a full-on catfight going on between Thalia and some admissions officer. She just barely considered helping Crowell when she spotted him fending off a random Brit. Brandon looked like he was doing fine on his own; Skyler remembered that he had a good left hook from when he punched that guy at the bar. Sam seemed, well, alive and well. Fallon was… Well, she was somewhere, but she was out of danger, so Skyler wasn't really worried. And then she saw it.

It was the same gunman she'd attacked earlier, creeping up on the whole mini battle from behind. Time slowed down. For a moment, Skyler wondered if everyone in the safe room was dead. Her head spun with nausea. Desperately, she shook her head, trying to keep track of the simple facts, the ones she was sure of. He had a gun, of course. He was aiming the gun. He was aiming it at something stupid, some particle of dust behind Skyler. Her deadly curiosity getting the best of her, she turned around. She could barely keep the scream inside.

It was Fallon. Except that it didn't _look _like Fallon. She wasn't smiling, and waving, and giggling like normal. She had a huge knife in her hand, and blood pooled under a wound on her head. Skyler knew what she was going to do before it happened. It was something awful, something that Skyler didn't want to see. It would change the way she looked at Fallon forever. But she couldn't close her eyes, or look away, or _stop _her. Fallon ran towards the killer, and Skyler was somehow still horribly frozen. She wasn't there really, she was watching a movie back in America; she was dreaming a bad dream. The ground wobbled. Was this what dying felt like? But she wouldn't be the one dying, she knew. Fallon, Fallon-

"Fallon!," she screeched breathlessly. Her mouth was dry, and she reached a pathetic hand out. It was too late though. Fallon had done it. She had dug the knife in the mysterious man's stomach, blood spurting over her angelic face. In a last spasm of strength, or perhaps an attempt at vengeance, he fired the gun. It didn't take long for all of the surrounding fights to pause, for people to come and try to save Fallon. Not quite Fallon, anymore though. A killer. She was no longer innocent. Skyler wanted to cry. Her friend's death wasn't quick, and easy, like it was supposed to be. Skyler had always imagined that she'd just kind of _fall asleep _and lie down, and the people around her would call 911. But Fallon was convulsing, and there was blood, so much blood-

It was all Skyler's fault. She could've stopped her. She could've have saved her life. Even after the fact, Skyler's feet were heavy, plodding along like they were stuck in molasses. Never before had she wanted to go home so badly. Maybe if she wished hard enough… _I wish I were home, I wish I were home. _Crowell pulled himself from the ground, eyes puffy and red. Once upon a time, Skyler would have made fun of him for looking so stupid. It was all different now. She had two people's-three, if she counted the gunman's-blood on her hands. _Sean's, Fallon's, Gunman's… _It didn't matter he was evil, he was still human.

"This is all your _fault!," _Crowell spat. Skyler's mouth edged open to say something, to apologize. She gagged, but nothing came out. It was all pointless now. All of it. _Oh, dear _God, _I just wish I were home. _"It should have been _you." _Skyler didn't respond or argue like Crowell wanted her to. She knew he just needed someone to blame, and she was the obvious choice. In fact, she was the _right_ choice, if you asked her. Nonetheless, Brandon hit him. Sam yelled hopelessly at no one. Crowell collapsed on the ground. Thalia just stared, not quite comprehending what was going on. And Skyler cried for the millionth time that year.

**A/N: Dramatic, huh? And long! That was to make up for all the short ones I've put out recently. I don't know how frequently I'll be able to update in the next couple of weeks, because I'll be in Ireland, but I'm pretty sure they'll have wi-fi. I'll do my best :). Review please!**


	35. Chapter 34

There wasn't much to be said in the Charing Cross Hospital, where all Rushing Water School students (or, in some of the more essential and/or interesting cases, exchange students) had been transferred directly after the widely-reported massacre at the campus. The school was already notorious for it's seeming disregard of basic safety regulations, and it's not-so-central location, and now Mr. Stoneteller was inside a police office, pleading that the school not be shut down. The only noise in the hospital's waiting room was a unanimous murmur of condolences passing through the room. Brandon hadn't realized just how bloody the whole affair was until he had been forced to watch the seemingly endless stream of the so-called 'affected students,' some breathing on their own, others hooked up to machines. Was it strange that he couldn't muster up as much emotion for them as he could for Skyler?

She seemed particularly burdened with the news of Fallon's death, apart from Sam and Crowell, of course. Brandon knew just from observing that the two girls weren't particularly close, given Skyler's more dramatic attitude, in a sharp contrast to Fallon's happy-go-lucky demeanor. It would be expected for her to feel a customary stab of moroseness, even regret, but she seemed lifeless, and dull. Brandon couldn't help but blame it on Crowell's cruel and unnecessary barb immediately following the murder. It ticked Brandon off more than it probably should that someone was allowed to talk to-well, not _his _Skyler, but _Skyler, _like that. She was rich and all, but she was still human. And really, _really _pretty. Not that superficial stuff like that mattered.

A long wisp of her wavy hair brushed against Brandon's shoulder as she shifted position. Her clothes were torn, and there were rings around her brilliant green eyes, but from what he could tell, she was still in one piece. Forgetting, for a moment, that she was a living person that might actually look at him, he watched her for a while. Her hands shook in uncharacteristic fear, he noticed, and her worn-in, coffee colored topsiders were smudged with blood, laces untied precariously. Her knotted hair and bruised, tired face gave her a savage beauty, as if she was a fallen angel whose landing didn't go as planned. A spark of some disturbing thought smoldered in her eyes, the fire torturing her. Her mouth pouted thoughtfully, partly eclipsed by her hand. The harsh, florescent lights of the hospital brought out streaks of gold in her burgundy hair, adding to the allusion that her head was simply consumed with fire.

On his other side, Thalia nudged Brandon's arm. Fighting a girly blush at getting caught staring, he turned to face his sister. A kind of mother-like amusement sparkled in her eyes, not really fitting in with her broken appearance. She didn't speak, just shrugged and tugged her lips up into an unconvincing smile. Instinctively, Brandon wrapped in arm around her.

"It's been a really long day, hasn't it?" he asked rhetorically. She grunted in response, staring at the monochrome floor.

"Too long," she sighed. Her lips quivered like she wanted to say more, but she closed them immediately, instead taking out her phone and scanning recent texts. Uncharacteristically, she giggled girlishly at one, blushing furiously at Brandon's skeptical gaze. He raised one eyebrow.

"Hear anything interesting?" Again, Thalia sighed, rubbing her feet across the floor.

"Do you remember when we were little, and Mom always wanted to play dress-up with me, but I always wanted to play football with you instead?" Brandon's lips quirked up, and he played the memory in his mind, nodding.

"Except that you sucked," he added jokingly. Thalia smiled at the insult, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Well, did you ever think that I... You know, _fit in more with guys? Like, I like the same _things and, and- _people as them?" Brandon looked at her suspiciously. Was she implying what he thought she was implying? He nodded carefully, gesturing for her to go on.___

Thalia looked anywhere but his face, a steady flush in her usually pale cheeks. "Because there's this girl... Rowan Cray. Do you know her? Well, she says she likes me. Like, _likelikes me, and... I don't know. Sometimes I think..." She trailed off, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth curved downwards in pain. "Sometimes I think I feel the same way." Her voice broke, and she stubbornly wiped a tear away from her cheek, pulling her legs to her chest. "And I _know everyone says that stuff like that isn't-isn't _natural, but I feel the same things as everyone else. Just differently, and I can't tell anyone and... Brandon, I'm really scared," she admitted.___

Brandon opened his mouth to speak, trying to think of an adequate response. Did Thalia just come out to him?

"So you're gay?," he asked in an unnaturally high voice. He'd never had a distinct problem with the LGBT community, but the thought that his sister might, like, _like the same girls as him... It was an alien idea. Thalia glared at him._

"Just, you know what... Just forget it. It doesn't matter anyways. I'm... I'm just being silly. Thanks for all the support though," she added sarcastically. Brandon frowned.

"I'm sorry, it just... It never occurred to me that you were... Like that." Thalia flushed in outrage.

"Like that?," she screeched. Noticing the curious stares of the people around her, she lowered her voice to a hiss. "Brandon, I am not _like _anything. I'm just... me. And I washoping you'd be someone that I could talk to about it. I guess not." Defiantly, she stormed away.

Brandon's mouth struggled to close itself. What had just happened? He hadn't had any time to process the events of the past few days, and now they were collapsing in on him, the walls he'd carefully sculpted to keep everything out crumbling down. He threw his head into his hand, trying to wipe away the sleepy stress. More than anything he wanted to go to sleep, and wake up at home with his mom there, and his dad _not, _and have everything that had ever gone wrong in his life forgotten. He groaned to himself in frustration.

"Hey." Skyler placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" Brandon pulled himself to look at her. She still seemed pained, but the regret in her eyes was replaced mostly with concern. Brandon smiled at her curious, kind nature.

"I'm fine," he lied. "Thalia just told me something really, really big, and-" He paused awkwardly, studying Skyler's curious expression. "Er-I, um... don't... think that I'm allowed to... um, tell you." Skyler shook her head understandingly.

"That's okay," she smiled. "God knows I keep enough secrets." She chuckled to herself, eyes glazed over with a memory. "Except that you've figured most of mine out," she teased, poking Brandon in the ribs. He smirked back at her.  
>"Or you just suck at keeping secrets, which is why I can't tell you," he shot back cheekily. Skyler giggled and punched his arm gently. Slowly, her smile faded to a wan look of bashful regret.<p>

"I feel bad. Being so... _happy _like this, like nothing's changed," she whispered, her eyes flickering to Sam, who was staring blankly at a wall, still in shock. She looked back at Brandon thoughtfully, studying his face. "Fallon wasn't my sister, but I just know that if I had to watch Leah die... I'd never forgive myself."

"So you and your sister are... close, then?" Brandon got the strange sensation that Skyler was trying to tell him something. Had she heard Thalia's confession?

"We're not on the best terms right now," Skyler explained quietly. "She got tired of keeping my secrets, and I don't blame her." When she spoke, Brandon saw a certain fragility in Skyler that he'd never seen before, not even when Sean died. Her eyes were downcast, and worried, revealing all of her insecurities. She bit her lip embarrassedly at her newfound openness. "But Leah was-_is-_my best friend. Well, other than Sean, of course. Even when he was alive, though, it was just different. Because I guess I always knew I was going to lose him, you know? Not in the way that I did, but..." She paused, looking into Brandon's eyes forcefully. "I could have been so happy if I had him for the rest of my life. But people change. They grow. Sean screwed up with Bridget, and I didn't want to just be known as the rich girl who took the drunk guy's side. We both messed things up, and we grew apart. I'm not proud of the way things ended between him and me, and I'll always love him. It just wasn't meant to be. We would have forgotten about each other soon. God, I hate saying that." Her shoulders slumped. "It sounds like I don't care. And I do. I care so much. I just don't think we would have lasted. And with Leah... We have to last. We're sisters. If we don't have each other, what do we have, right? Everyone can turn against you, and you'll always have your sister."

"Are you saying I should tell Thalia I'm sorry?" Skyler shrugged cryptically.

"Maybe. Or maybe you came up with that idea yourself. Either way, I don't think it's a bad one." Impulsively, Brandon grabbed her hand. She squeezed his comfortingly.

"Thank-you," he whispered, leaning against the wall.

"For what?," she asked, giggling.

"For being here." Skyler smiled.

"Anytime," she whispered back. She fell limply against his shoulder, resting her head under his. It didn't feel awkward like it had a few days ago. It felt calming, and soothing to know that someone was there. Not just someone-Skyler.

**A/N: The Thalia storyline is taken from the typo when Rowanclaw was at first a she-cat, but later listed as the father of Thalia's kits. I find that pretty much hilarious. Btw, full rights LGBT! They're people too! Sorry again for the delay! Happy start of school... (Not.)**


	36. Chapter 35

**A/N: I have writer's block, so I'm kind of experimenting with this chapter… I take no responsibility for how strange or nonsensical it may get. BTW, the plot does move very quickly! And a lot of things do happen at once! It's all for the sake of blending creation things in, and making the story a slightly manageable length…**

**P.S. The wait was super long (sorry…) , so the chapter is too! And yes, a storyline is completely ignored in this chapter. It was a quickly resolved one in the books that got resolved fairly quickly and for the sake of time and fluency (especially since like, NO ONE are the triplet's parents in this story) the whole Leaf vs. Squirrel's children drama is nixed. I might bring it back later as a teen pregnancy thing… Or not. It depends on how much I want people to hate the characters :). NO EDIT! **

Liam tip-toed down his dorm stairs, holding his breath as he carefully place his weight on one foot, waiting for the fateful creak. He sighed audibly in relief when the night remained still and silent, scurrying down the rest of the staircase. Even after a few weeks of training with Mr. Thomas, he hadn't gotten used to the rush of adrenaline he always had when he tip-toed down the stairs. The keys in his pocket jingled uncomfortably against his leg. The door of the dorm swung open easily, hardly squeaking. The rest of the journey to the training center was easy.

Grass folded under his weight as he bounded across the street, heading for an abandoned warehouse. Several other teenagers milled around the entrance of the building, some clutching joints between their fingers, others getting into playful scuffles. Slowly, the door to the building pushed outward, revealing a gaunt, tattooed face. Liam picked up his pace, falling into the mangled line of kids filing inside.

"Liam. You're late. What happened to the extra training Mr. Thomas requested you for?" Liam's eyes widened. Dammit.

"Sorry Scott. I couldn't get out. I had a ton of homework!" Scott snorted carelessly, knocking Liam's head with his fist.

"Stick with us, kid, and grades won't matter. You'll get whatever you want with a snap of your fingers. You'll be unstoppable." Liam smiled at the mentor, imagining all his power and glory. One day soon it would come, he was sure of it. And then he'd be even better than Scott and Mr. Thomas _combined. _

Inside, circles of kids milled about, some pressing ices to their noses. Liam conveniently forgot to notice the fact that all of these kids faces' were bleeding excessively, instead focusing on the few kids high-fiving each other at having moved up a level. Mr. Thomas strode down the center of the room, a strange-smelling pipe hanging out of the edge of his mouth. Occasionally he would stop and correct people's moves in sports games, or the work of the few students who came for extra help in school. A pool of colorful pills spilled over a table in the corner, and students swallowed them down at their leisure. Liam pushed his way through the crowd to the gym.

Suddenly, the lights in the building snapped off. The chatter cut off abruptly as Mr. Thomas hoisted himself onto a table, speaking in a hiss.

"An outsider has been spotted. Everyone, exit the premises! We must not be caught."

Liam's senses went into overdrive. Would the police find him here? He could lie and say he just wandered over here or something equally as stupid, but then they'd search his room. And the pills… It didn't take a genius to figure out that those pills were not on the good side of the law. _Shit, shit, shit. _Liam couldn't go to jail. Not when he had so much happening. Not when he had _two girls _fighting over him! Well, not exactly, but a boy can dream.

The ring of his phone snapped Liam out of his thoughts.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, answering when he saw who was calling.

"Where the _fuck _are you?" Liam winced at Jay's harsh tone. Why was his brother even up, anyways? Before the words could leave his lips, Jay explained. "There's a _fucking fire drill, _and you're not _fucking here, _so everyone's convinced you've been kidnapped like Skyler Finlay, asshole." People swarmed around Liam, but he could still hear his brother's sharp tone through the clamor. Even over that, though, a certain exchange drifted towards him.

"Daelyn? What are you doing here? You just ruined, like, _everything!" _A girl's wailing voice broke through the sounds of the night.

"I was waiting for… For a friend. He asked me to meet him here… You don't know him…"

"God, you're an idiot. Timothy Thomas is going to-"

_"Timothy Thomas?" _screeched the second girl.

_"Timothy Thomas?" _Jay echoed in Liam's ear. Apparently he'd overheard the conversation too. It was that, uh… stronger ears when you're blind thing. "Liam, where the hell are you?" Quietly, and against his instinct, Liam spat out the address of the warehouse he was stationed at.

"What's it matter?," he snarled, suddenly overtaken by a foreboding sense.

"Someone told me something about Thomas and if it's true you really shouldn't be there! Hold on, I'm coming over right now." Liam's mouth opened. Did his blind brother just offer to come check out the 'dangerous situation?' Something very wrong was about to happen, he could feel it.

Sure enough, Jay was there in a matter of minutes, Holly trailing behind him. They seemed to be arguing about something, assumedly why Holly had come on Jay's mission.

"Someone had to lead you here!" Liam caught as his siblings neared. Jay's cheeks tinged an uncharacteristic red.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered gruffly, obviously closing the subject. Holly smiled at her victory.

"Hi Liam," she chirped, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around her. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh… Uh, sleepwalking." Jay snorted loudly.

"Look Liam, I know someone who thinks they saw Timothy Thomas _murder _someone-" "Wait a minute, you're here with Timothy Thomas?," Holly interrupted viciously. Liam shrugged, forgetting his alibi.

"Yeah, he's our uncle, isn't he?" His siblings stared back at him blankly.

"God knows how you survived until now without killing yourself," Jay growled. Liam didn't bother to refute the accusation, shocked at his new realization. He could really be an idiot sometimes, couldn't he?

Holly, meanwhile, looked like she was suffering some major brain damage. Her eyes twitched angrily, and her cheeks burned red.

"This is just _so wrong," _she murmured to herself. "You know what?," she said more loudly. "I am done with this. Now you guys can get a ride home with my money," she shoved her purse at them, "I'm taking the subway to _cool off_. See you tomorrow." With that, she pivoted towards the road, turning away from her brother's protests. She scurried across the street, running towards the stairs underground. The sounds of her stomping down the steps carried to her siblings, right down to her steady paces on the concrete slab. Abruptly, an agonized scream pierced the night.

Liam and Jay bounded to the subway stop, hearts racing. The tracks were empty, the only thing visible a retreating train.

"What do you see?," Jay squeaked, breaths coming in uneven pants from nervousness. Liam gulped.

"Nothing," he whispered. He looked at his brother, almost able to see the gears turning in his mind.

"There's no way she could've survived, is there…?"

"Of course not," Jay snapped. His blind gaze blurred, and he rubbed at his eyes bashfully.

"What are we gonna do?"

"Tell the truth. Half of it, at least," Jay explained matter-of-factly. "You got lost on your way home from a party, so we came to pick you up. She… She fell." Liam's breath caught as he realized what this meant. His only sister was dead.

"They'll figure out we're lying, won't they?" He struggled to keep his voice from breaking.

"They can't," his now-twin replied. He gulped heavily, tears streaming from his sightless eyes. "No one can ever know the truth. Never. We'll have to wait until the other people have left to call 911 or they'll suspect us."

"I can't believe that actually just happened," Liam breathed.

"Me neither."

**A/N: Oooh… Jay's kinda cold just there. But it's for the best. Predictions? Thoughts? Is Holly really dead? (That's a question for the books and this story!) There was no edit because of the long wait, so I'm not totally elated with this chapter. It serves it's purpose, though. Review please!**


	37. Chapter 36

**A/N: Hey! This chapter's mostly just dialogue for any Squirrel/Storm fans… Well, kind of… It's more friendship-y. Please review! I don't own Warriors. **

Skyler plopped down next to Sam, trying to smile. Brandon was off making flight reservations (how he ended up always being in charge, no one really knew), Thalia was being all PMS-y, Crowell was curled up into a ball and punched anyone who came within ten feet of him, and Fallon was… dead. That left Skyler to try and get Sam to talk, to laugh, to move on.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey," he repeated dully. His eyes were glazed over with memories, and his breath reeked of alcohol. It was almost repulsive to watch him spiral downwards in health. It physically hurt her because he was a nice guy, someone who didn't deserve all of the grief.

"I'm not gonna ask you if you're okay," she started carefully. "Because I know you're not. But hurting yourself like this won't bring her back." Sam's eyes flashed indignantly, and he spun to face Skyler.

"I could have saved her," he hissed. Skyler chuckled humorlessly, shaking her head.

"No one could have saved her." They were silent for a while before Skyler began again. "Your sister, Sam, died a hero. She saved countless other lives, including yours. She knew what she was doing. She wanted you to be alive and be happy. She didn't want to make you give up your life for her."

"I would have." Skyler looked up. "Given up my life," Sam clarified. She smiled.

"I know. Sometimes… Sometimes I've felt the same way," she said, images of Sean flooding her head. But no. This was Sam's time to grieve, not hers. "Fallon was really smart, you know," she pointed out randomly. Sam snorted.

"So? She's dead."

"She never got any question wrong on tests. When we were all at Rushing Water, she'd help me with my homework." Sam smiled. "She knew a lot about people. And she saved _you, _so she must have known that you are going to have a really great life."

"I, uh, guess so."

"We all trusted her about a lot of things," Skyler continued. "So can you trust her now that you deserve to live a good life?" Sam's smiled grew by an inch. Sadness still flecked his gray eyes, but it was a vast improvement.

"You know I just can't believe Brooke like, kidnapped me."

"It was a pretty sucky thing to do."

"Fallon wouldn't have died. I hope Brooke knows that." Skyler frowned.

"Maybe. But I don't think that guilt is a good thing to wish on anyone."

"You know, before I met Brooke I kind of had a thing for you." Skyler stiffened. She smiled awkwardly, shifting in her seat. For once she didn't know what to say.

"I know," she whispered honestly.

"But you like Brandon."

"What?"

"You and Brandon. You guys like each other."

"Well, I mean… I don-." Skyler paused. She remembered how much they had hated each other when they first arrived, and then how he had punched that guy for her. She remembered how she had looked for her, of all people, first when the killer broke in. "Yeah, I guess I like him," she smiled to herself. Remembering where she was, she blushed. "I'm sorry Sam. I'm not being very supportive right now, am I?" Sam shrugged.

"It's okay. We… We wouldn't have worked out. I just wanted you to know. Just… Just in case."

"Thanks," Skyler said. "You know, you'll always be one of my best friends."

"I know," Sam replied, just as Skyler did earlier. "But I don't think I'll be going back to America." Skyler looked at him incredulously.

"What?"

"I don't belong there. My family… We're just not going to work out. I'd rather stay here with Fallon than go home and see my dad every few weeks."

"Then you forgive Brooke?"

"I don't know. But, I mean, England's a lot bigger than Rushing Water. I can study at Oxford, or…"

"I'm happy for you. Fallon would be proud."

"You think so?"

"Yeah." A tear leaked out of Sam's eye, and Skyler lean towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She patted his back soothingly.

"Everything's gonna be okay," she whispered. "One day." Maybe if she said it enough, she'd actually believe it.


	38. Chapter 37

**A/N: Hola! So, this chapter is going to get creative… Instead of Twolegs kidnapping cats, certain select people are going to come down with a terrible, awful, horrendous, highly contagious disease that causes them all to be put in quarantine! Ohhh, this should be fun. Review please and tell me what you think! I don't own Warriors. **

**P.S So sorry about the wait, by the way! Don't worry though, once I'm used to my homework load and everything, I will be back in no time!**

Leah's nose felt frozen in the quickly cooling fall air. Her chestnut hair fell in ringlets, cascading out of her gray knit winter hat. The world seemed to be spinning around her, patterns out of a kaleidoscope exploding from every movement. Her head rang with the sound of invisible bells. What was going on?

The door to the nurse's office swung open at the first touch. Smoking pamphlets were tacked up along the pristine white walls, and a clear box next to the door overflowed with bandaids. Stacks of student's files lay on the desk, waiting to be sorted through. The nurse wasn't there, though. Her husband was.

"Mr. Greyson?," Leah rasped. Her throat was unnaturally dry, and her lips quivered. Heat prickled across her brow, sending sweat streaking down the side of her face. Her eyes burned at the bright lights in the perfectly sanitary room. "Where's… Where's the nurse?"

Mr. Greyson smiled at Leah from over the desk. His tie was loosened at his neck. He looked perfectly at home in his wife's office. "She's actually out right now… What can I do you for?" Leah shuddered. She had always hated that expression. It sounded like some hillbilly prostitute asking how much they would get paid. And plus, she was in a nurse's office. Wasn't it kind of obvious?

"Um. I feel… sick," she dead-panned emotionlessly. Mr. Greyson's mouth quirked downwards, confusion evident in his eyes. After all, he was no doctor, but an English teacher.

"Well… Uh… Lie down, I guess?"

Leah sighed inwardly, trudging over to the sterilized beds tiredly. Her heart raced, and she could taste the salty snot dripping from her nose. Where was Skyler? Hopefully she was having just as fun of a time as Leah. (Note the sarcasm.)

So the answer to the unspoken question is _yes_: Leah _was _still furious at her undead sister. Like, strangle-in-her-sleep furious. Like, _tears-of-rage furious._ What gave her the right to jet off because she got sick of responsibility? Who had taught her that she was supposed to be put on a pedestal before all others? Angry memories of Skyler winning awards and making speeches-_Skyler, Skyler, Skyler_-swam violently in front of Leah's eyes. When was the last time anyone had asked how Leah felt about anything that wasn't in reference to her sister's supposed death? In leaving, Skyler had thrust the role of dead-girl's-sister on Leah, and that was simply unforgivable.

A pulsating pain developed in Leah's belly, pounding against her rib cage. Meekly, she pressed her hand against her abdomen, willing the throbbing to subside. Mr. Greyson, being ever the ex-wild child, diligently ignored her-if he saw nothing go wrong, he could not be blamed. Besides, it wasn't like he could do anything. Leah didn't really mind, anyways. She loved the silent solitude of the nurse's office, the quiet rustling of papers and the clean smell of Purell-hey, how could you not? It killed 99.9% of germs. And stopped people from getting sick. Which Leah was anyways. Funny how life works like that, isn't it?

Hey, not really. Leah closed her eyes, counting her breaths as they yanked apart her insides. Her head was stabbed with pain. Next to her, kid had scrawled notes on the smooth, pure white wall.

_Feel better!_

_ Take some aspirin._

_ Do you have a fever?_

_ The nurse is HOT!_

_ I'm shitting liquid._

Leah scrunched up her nose. She could have lived a very happy life never seeing those things. It seemed impossible that all the morons around her were only her age. How had she become so… not like them? _Dear God, _she prayed silently. _Please help me to get better and find a place very far from here where boys do not hit on girls non-stop and You are respected because You are, as always, super cool. Thanks. Love, Leah. _And yes, she did tell God He was 'super cool.' She was tight with him; she could do that.

Smiling to herself, she began to daydream of places like the ones she had outlined in her prayer. All that came to mind was a life with the Amazons, fierce female warriors who made men their servants. While that was a tempting option, Leah just couldn't see herself running through the wild, decapitating animals with a ginormous axe. She could become a nun. Ah, yes, that would be nice. Just sit, and pray, and read all day. No need to worry about children, or boy problems. No reason to think about your tiny little speck of a sister who had mysteriously reappeared, other than praying that she would be saved. And convents had some good food-she'd tasted it once on a school field trip. Leah wondered how old you had to be to become a nun. She imagined herself arriving dramatically at some house filled with old ladies who baked her cookies non-stop and treated her like a queen because she knew how to work an iPhone. Yes, that sounded doable.

**A/N: I didn't love it, but it was fun, and it kind of fit in with Leafpool's storyline. Review please! See you soon as possible. Or… Er… Write you. :)**


	39. Chapter 38

Bursts of fluff floated outside the plane's window. Brandon examined them furtively, enticed by the way the cottony clouds molded together, only to be blown apart by the wind. "That one looks like a parrot," observed Skyler, leaning over Brandon's shoulder to see. He had grown used to her constant pestering that day as she was trying to punish him for 'stealing her window seat' when he totally got there first and the tickets don't really matter because you sit where you sit and eventually you just get off the plane so who really cares? Was it bad that he kinda liked that she sat next to him? His heart thumped loudly in his chest.

"It's actually a dog," Brandon corrected her, smirking. Her nose crinkled as she further scrutinized the cloud drifting outside.

"You need to get a pair of glasses, because that is _totally _a bird. Look at it's wings!" Brandon looked at her in mock shock.

"Those are it's ears! Duh!" he explained. Skyler snorted loudly. "What dog has ears that are like, twice the size of it's body?" "Basset hounds," Brandon said simply. Skyler frowned, evaluating the argument.

"Well, basset hounds are ugly and basically extinct so they don't count," she muttered.

"Since when are they almost extinct?"

"Since I said so. Besides, have _you _ever seen a basset hound in real life?" Skyler raised a doubtful eyebrow. Her deep burgundy hair tickled Brandon's cheek.

Anxiety gnawed at his insides, chopping his nerves to bits. There was no way they could pull off just waltzing into school like, 'Hey, one kid died and another abandoned ship, but at least we have your missing daughter!' They would be murdered. Ostracized. Could you go to jail for traveling with a minor over state lines? Oh yeah, you totally could. And Brandon knew from visiting his father there that jail was just not that fun. Who would come visit him? Skyler wouldn't be able to. (And that fact bothered him a lot more than it should have in any situation. Just because she was pretty funny, though, and he imagined it would be good to laugh in jail. No other reason. No other reason at all…) And Thalia was gay, so would she just go totally butch and like, hook-up with her cellmates? Ew. What if Brandon's cellmate was gay? What if he was like, ya know, _gay raped? _Didn't that kind of stuff happen in jail? What if…

"If my dad asks why I went with you guys I think we should tell him the truth, you know? I mean, it's not your fault that I came with you. You were the one that tried to get me to leave… So you're not really going to get in trouble. Are you?" _Way to sound super confident, Skyler_, Brandon thought. He smiled pathetically at her, looking more like a two year old girl finding out that her puppy had just died.

"You don't know much about how the court system works, do you?"

"That would involve listening to other people's rules, so _no, _I do not." Brandon chuckled inwardly as Skyler fiddled with the touch screen TV screen in front of her. Her green eyes squinted in thought as she browsed the selection of movies. "Do you think they have anything with Leonardo DiCaprio in it? 'Cause he's hot, especially for like, someone that old."

"Isn't he like, 35?" Skyler's eyes widened in disgust. "Oh God, I know, right? But it's like he's _freaking Benjamin Button!" _She sucked on a neon green Ring stifled a laugh. A small giggle alerted them to someone else's presence. A perky blonde flight attendant smiled at them, brandishing bags of pretzels.

"OMG, you guys make like, the _cutest _couple. I mean, it's like, people like you that make me like my job so much! Because like, I was thinking of going back to _school, _and how lame would that be, right? So you like, _totally _saved the day!"

Brandon's cheeks flushed bright red, and he opened his mouth to interrupt, but Skyler elbowed him. She slipped her Ring Pop on to her left ring finger, smirking back at the girl.

"Oh, thank-you darling," she cooed in a perfect British accent. "We've just been engaged! His mother is absolutely_ insisting _that we use her ring, though, so we're just flying back to America to snatch it off her pretty, little, wrinkled fingers! If it will fit over her knuckles, that is. God knows the woman's gained some wait since she was wedded. America. It's almost repulsive to see how overly obese you all are. I don't mind at all though, because that rock is worth millions, isn't it, Paulie?"

Brandon nodded helpfully, not trusting himself to speak. "Anyways, my fiancee is just so sweet that he gave me a candy ring for the wait! I tell you, love is just sweeter than sugar now. I would know, because that's what my ring is made out of, isn't it?" Skyler threw in a banshee-like laugh. "It's too bad I can't just eat it up right now! We're both on a strict diet until the wedding so my Paulie doesn't just waddle down the same path as his dearest mama! Because I've heard obesity is genetic, and we plan to have a child as soon as possible-ASAP, isn't that what Americans say? Well, anyways, I would just die of embarrassment if I had a fat child, wouldn't you?"

The flight attendant nodded cautiously, all but throwing the pretzels at them before she stumbled down the aisle to say hello to the next set of passengers. Brandon couldn't imagine that Crowell and Thalia would exactly fit her image of the perfect person either.

"I love making people look like idiots. It just makes me feel so superior," Skyler mused.

"That sounded incredibly bitchy," Brandon retorted. Skyler smirked.

"Oh, relax. It was a joke! And besides, maybe I just put her back in school. Or at least gave her a cool story to tell when people ask why the _hell _she's a flight attendant." Brandon tried (and failed) to stifle a laugh.

"Right, I'm sure she appreciates that."

"I would," Skyler said innocently, turning back to her TV. "God, I don't want to go home."

"Hello passengers, this is your pilot, and I am happy to announce that we will be arriving in New York in about twenty minutes."

**A/N: Cliffhanger… Kind of. But the update was faster, right? Review please! And next chapter they'll finally be back in America! (Yay!) :)**


	40. Chapter 39

**A/N: Special chapter! Mr. Finlay's POV. BTW, is the snow bothering anyone else? Because it's not even Halloween yet. I horse back ride too, and my fingers literally couldn't function after an hour this morning. And I was wearing leather gloves. Anyways, review please. I don't own Warriors. Happy Halloween****!**

Henry Finlay was determined not to cry. He didn't even know if he'd have tears left in him-losing a daughter at sixteen when you weren't on the best of terms with her… Well, that stung. And now his only other child was close to dying in some random hospital that was around two hours away, and hey, guess what! She infected his best friend too! And people were jealous of his life because?…

"I'm contacting a lawyer," Sandy, his wife, announced. "Because this is ridiculous. I mean, I know a girl who recovered from _cancer, _and they can't clear our daughter of a simple stomach bug?"

"Sandra, I think it's been made clear that this isn't a _stomach bug," _Henry muttered tiredly. His eyelids drooped beneath his glasses, and his fiery hair was tinged with gray. A frown crossed his wife's face as she placed the phone back down on her desk, glaring at the floor.

"You know, lately, I don't know what you want to happen, Henry. It seems like you've just… turned off. Don't you want to think our daughter will survive?" she demanded, eyes burning with passion.

"No. I'm just waiting for her to drop off the face of the earth so we can go back to being alone!" he retorted sarcastically. Sandra's jaw tightened.

"This is exactly what I mean-"

"Mom?" Both Henry and Sandra's faces shot towards the door; they were parents to half of a human, there was no one left to address them as such. And yet, in front of them stood a beautiful girl they both recognized. She had aged, maybe, in the past few months, brilliant red hair fading to a mahogany, a few inches taller, but it suited her. She looked more alive than they had ever seen, but she was dead, they both knew it.

"Skyler?" Henry breathed, his face flushing with hope. It seemed impossible, it had to be impossible, but still… Maybe there was a reason they hadn't found her body. Maybe she had lived quietly in her own world, learning slowly how to survive by herself, how to break free from what she inevitably lived with.

"Do you see her too, Hen?" Sandra whispered almost inaudibly. Skyler's lips quirked into a sad smile, and she was her mother for a moment-just like her mother. Only their real daughter could have lit up like that for a second.

"Daddy? I-I'm home. I-I came back." Within seconds, she was crushed within her father's arms.

"You never leave again," he whispered. "Not to get married, not to go to college. Never."

She smiled against his cheek because she knew that one day he would let her go again, and she could imagine that he might actually be glad to. In spite of this, she replied softly, "I know, Daddy." Her mother walked towards her slowly once she was released from her father's grasp, putting on a gentle hand on her daughter's cheek.

"My baby," she murmured. "I thought-" Her voice caught. "I thought you were gone forever. Where were you? How? How, Skyler?" Skyler breathed deeply, studying the floor. This was it. The moment she'd been dreading.

"If I tell you, you have to promise that no one will get punished except me." Her parents exchanged a worried glance. Was this some symptom of Stockholm's? "Because… Because I wanted to go. I made them take me." The crack of two fragile hearts was audible throughout the entire school. And then, the welling of regret, guilt. And finally, anger.

"Are you fucking insane?" Henry demanded.

"Henry-"

"No, I mean it. I did not raise you to do things like this! Do you have any idea how many people cried over you, how many people _died _over you?" Skyler winced at the blatant reference to Sean. "Now, other people may have treated you like a princess but you're not one. And this is unacceptable. I've never heard of anything more selfish in my life!" Tears streamed down Skyler's face.

"Daddy, please try to understand-"

"Understand what? I thought you were dead, Skyler. Dead," he gasped. "I thought I'd never see you again in my life."

"And I thought you wouldn't care," Skyler responded bravely. "Don't pretend that you were proud of me before the day you lowered some fucking dummy of me into the ground-"

"Skyler, don't do this-"

"Don't do what? Tell you why I left? Should I just let you punish me because of how much you _sucked _at being a parent? You don't understand, Dad. You don't understand what I did to be perfect for you, for the world, for everyone who fucking read your little book and took a sudden interest in our family! And I wasn't. I tried, and tried, and tried, and you still found something to yell at me for!" Skyler panted, eyes flaming like her hair. The room was silent for a while, the air absorbing the mini tantrum. "It's not like I just hitch-hiked across America. I was with someone-someone I know you liked because you chose him to go to England out of everyone." Realization dawned in Henry's eyes.

"Brandon?"

"And Crowell and Thalia, to be specific," she shrugged.

"What about the Greyson twins?"

"Of course they were there, too. But it's irrelevant because Fallon's dead, and Sam's becoming a British citizen as we speak."

"Stephen will be heartbroken," Henry breathed.

"Like you were?"

"Of course." Skyler hesitated.

"I didn't want this moment to be like this. I don't want to fight with you, Daddy. I wanted you to be…" She sucked in a breath and her voice became almost inaudible. "Happy."

"Of course I'm happy, Sky. I was just scared for you."

"I was pretty stupid, wasn't I?"

"I'm just glad you're home right now."

**A/N: Review please! Intense homecoming, huh?**


	41. Chapter 40

**A/N: Guess what? My birthday was a few days ago! So, lets pretend we live in the Shire from LOTR, which means that I have to give everyone else a birthday present, and lets have this be that present! Leah's POV. I don't own Warriors.**

Leah was confused. She was all alone, lying down on a tiny bed. A newscaster featured on the TV on the wall rattled off all the reasons not to vote for Michelle Bachmann, and that made her more confused because was anyone really considering voting for Michelle Bachmann? Anyways, the room was pretty bright, and it hurt Leah's head to look around. Or maybe, her head just ached anyways. She couldn't really tell.

Something felt unsettled in her stomach, like a hamster was using it as one of those exercise wheels. A neat tray of food was placed on the nightstand next to her hospital bed, along with a brand new Kindle in a leather case. Even from across the room, it was obvious that the door was sealed tightly shut. And everything was so _white. _The only ways of communication were the phone, a laptop, and a small glass screen in the corner, obviously meant to be one of those things people in jail used. Was she in jail? Had fainting suddenly become a crime? But then why did she have all this new stuff? What the _hell _was going on?

"Leah?"

Leah knew that voice. That voice shouldn't be there. That voice should be in England.

"Skyler?" Leah croaked in reply. She shuffled weakly to the bench in front of the screen, and leaned forward to glare at the glass. Wasn't she mad at her sister for some reason? Oh yeah. She'd left Leah all alone. But still, Skyler smiled back.

"I always thought that if we ever talked through glass like this, you'd be bailing me out for stalking Chace Crawford. This... This is unexpected."

"So I am in jail?" Leah allowed herself to interact normally with her sister, if only for a moment. She needed to figure out what was happening to her.

Laughing, Skyler replied, "No, silly. You're in quarantine. You're just a little sick, remember?"

"I think my tummy remembers," Leah murmured. Suddenly, a deep surge of panic froze the blood in her veins. "Wait, am I dying?" Why else would she be in quarantine? Skyler's smile faltered.

"I don't know," she answered softly. "But I'm pretty sure you have enough time to tear me apart if you're still furious at me." Leah giggled.

"Good." She mentally prepared herself to say what she'd wanted to say for two months. "You're a bitch." Skyler arched an eyebrow.

"I kind of am, aren't I?" Leah snorted at her in amazement.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself? Don't you feel _guilty? _You changed everything!" The frozen blood melted with rage. Skyler remained calm, making Leah's face burn with embarrassment. Had they completely switched places? Where was the temperamental, egotistic, fairly superficial Skyler that Leah wanted to murder? Figuratively, of course. _Figuratively,_ Leah reminded herself.

"I don't think I really did, do you? I mean, I certainly wasn't a great sister or friend. But if Sean wanted to commit suicide, then me being there to yell at him wouldn't have helped that much. And I promise you, if I was around after that, it would still be like I was gone. I wouldn't have gotten over it nearly so fast, either, if I wasn't off making my own life. Ya know?"

Leah clenched her fists. Her entire jaw tightened. Finally she understood why people started wars. The anger she felt was explicable, at least not through words. Actions, maybe. Actions like going Vlad the Impaler on someone's ass.

"So you just don't care now?"

Now Skyler looked angry. Leah smirked at the reaction she had created in her sister. Finally, something, something, something she could use to make herself feel better.

"There's a difference between caring and blaming yourself." Skyler's voice was deadly low. "You just wouldn't know because you roll over every time someone says to! Whenever something goes wrong, you just let people make it your fault and walk all over you!" It was a little louder now, but soon went back to it's normal tone. "You're _begging _to be taken advantage of, Leah. And that's the difference between you and me. Not everything has to be my _fault!"_

Leah closed her eyes, begging herself to simmer down. How much time did she really have left? She couldn't do this. Not now. What needed to be said had been said. All that was left was petty insults and weeks worth of Ben & Jerry's before someone spoke up.

"I don't want to do this," she whispered, more trying to convince herself than Skyler. "I just wanna be okay."

"You're going to be. I can feel it," Skyler reassured her. "I love you, Leah. I'm glad I came home."

"Yeah, me too."


	42. Chapter 41

**A/N: Doo-doo-doo-doo! (Imagine a trumpet noise like when the Queen of whatever country she's queen of enters in movies.) I am pleased to introduce you to our two newest characters…. Holden and Margaret! If you can't figure out who they are, I'm pretty sure you haven't read the books. But, being me, I'm gonna tell you who they are anyways: Hawkfrost and Mothwing. See the connection?**

**By the way… I'm thinking of re-editing chapters so far over Thanksgiving. And the one big thing: I'm kind of thinking of changing Skyler's name to Scarlet. It's a big deal, I know, but it just kind of fits her better, you know? Well, let me know if you'd tolerate that… For now, she's still Skyler. But it's been bothering me. So tell me what you think.**

**Oh, and, it's Holden's POV. :)**

Holden had been to a few schools in his lifetime-twelve, to be exact. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone somewhere without being kicked out or moved halfway across the country. He didn't mind much. It seemed that what little emotion there was in his slightly screwed up family had skipped right on to his sister, Margaret. This time, though, it was going to be different. This time, he had a plan, and some sort of family other than his mother, whose already questionable wisdom was becoming mottled by age and drink. This time, he had a father. A father who was so powerful, in fact, that he was on the brink of permanently digging Holden and Maggie out of the hole they'd been thrust down.

That is, if all went as planned. Which, somehow, it never seemed to do when Holden was around. One thing was for sure, something would go wrong.

He had to say, though, it was strange being put in River Dorm. His father, the only person he even knew with a slight connection to Four Oaks, had been in the Thunder and Shadow Dorms. Yes, yes, two. It was possible to switch if you sucked that much as a person. Get over it, people. Anyways, it appeared that both these dorms were, ah, full. Code for: They could not afford another Thomas on their hands; they each had risked one more already.

Which leads us to Holden's mission… In his hands, he held the student profiles of Brandon and Thalia Thomas. The boy, Brandon, looked somewhat handsome (but Holden was a guy, so what did he know about that stuff?), and the girl might have been pretty if she ditched the excessive facial piercings, dyed her blonde roots to match the rest of her black head, and invested in some remotely attractive clothing. Besides, she was his half-sister. And Holden had done some screwed up things in his lifetime, but he wasn't into incest. Especially not with the girls he had as sisters.

It didn't take long to shake off Maggie-though defensive and insecure, she had an endearing quality about her and looked somewhat more approachable than her brother. In no time, she was being pulled along by some wannabe popular girls who insisted that her hair color was "like, to like, totally, kill for" and "completely, totally, impossible to find, so like, where did she get it done or was it natural, in which case they like, couldn't be friends, because they were like, so jealous, LOL." The joys of being in high school.

Surprisingly, finding Brandon wasn't extremely difficult either. Holden had estimated that Thalia would be more noticeable given her unruly appearance, but maybe she was as vampirish as she looked and was simply unable to venture out of doors in the day time. Brandon, however, was wandering around campus, looking slightly lost as he did so. Apparently, he had done something notable within the past few weeks as people were constantly stopping him to slap him on the back and ask how he'd been. Holden recognized the frustrated flush of color on his half-brother's face when the millionth person came in his way. His temper was one of the many things that traced him back to Timothy Thomas. (A tamer version, perhaps. After all, Brandon had never been arrested.)

"Brandon!" Holden could have killed himself for speaking so quickly. But maybe, just maybe, he was a little bit excited to see his brother. Even if he knew they would forever be rivals, whether they were both on the same side or not.

Obviously, the fact they'd never met before was not lost on Brandon. He looked as one might look after hearing voices in their head-that is to say, majorly freaked out. However, ever fighting to be the opposite of his father, he responded cautiously.

"Um, do I know you?"

Despite himself, Holden rolled his eyes. It didn't take much to see that the pair were brothers. In fact, he was pretty sure that the weird blind kid, sulking in the corner and glaring at him, could tell they were related. Their voices mimicked each other, leaving their one difference to be their eyes: Brandon's topaz, Holden's turquoise.

"You really don't recognize me from anywhere?" he insisted, stepping closer. "I don't look like anyone you know?" Brandon shook his head slowly, still not understanding. "Jesus Christ," Holden muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. And you're right, I don't technically know you," Holden admitted, stepping closer to his brother. "But we're brothers. _Half-_brothers. On our father's side."

"Well, duh. Only my dad would have been enough of a douche to cheat on his spouse." Holden raised an eyebrow.

"He wouldn't be happy to hear you talking like that, Brandon. You're his _favorite." _Brandon coughed.

"Not true. That's Thalia." He paused for a moment, considering. "But that could have changed, I guess... Considering her latest announcement about her sexuality..."

"So that's why she looks like she just got pulled through a sewer? She's gay?" Brandon looked up.

"Wha... Oh, um, yeah. Just, uh... Don't tell anyone. I'm trusting you, you know. Because we're brothers."

"Right." Holden smirked to himself.

"Hey, by the way... Have you seen a redheaded-brunette-ish girl, about... Uh, yay high?" Brandon held a hand right below his nose. "Green eyes..." He blushed. "Kinda pretty."

"Is she your girlfriend?" Holden pressed.

"Uh... No."

"Do you want her to be?" Brandon thought for a second. He knew what the real answer was, but to tell anyone else made it so concrete. And there was such little chance that they would work out. Perhaps it was best to keep his schoolboy crush private, rather than spreading the news. And besides, now that Thalia hated him, he needed someone to talk to. Who better than his brother?

"Uh, yeah. I guess so."

"Mm. Well, no, I haven't seen her. But why don't we go for a walk... Brother?"

**Oooh, Holden's creepy! What do you think? And let me know about the Skyler to Scarlet thing, too! REVIEW!**


	43. Chapter 42

**A/N: Hey guys! You have voted, and the name Skyler is here to stay! Looking back, I think it may have just been a mid-story crisis. Sooo there's a lot of Brandon and Skyler in this chapter which will feature... Thanksgiving! If you're not in the US, just... Just go along with it. Because eating too much turkey and finally getting pumpkin pie rocks, and so it had to be involved. Brandon's POV. Review please!**

**Oh, and by the way... I own nothing. **

To tell the truth, Brandon was kind of confused. Because for some inexplicable reason, Skyler was prancing around campus with a Santa hat on, waving to all her devoted followers and singing/screaming Let It Snow. Which was good for Brandon in one way, because he _had _been looking for her, but also kind of weird, because it wasn't Christmas and there was always the possibility that she had gone insane. Or she didn't want to be seen with the son of a criminal now that they were back where people knew who they were. That didn't stop him from waving at her though.

"Brandon!" she exclaimed, barreling through the crowd. "Don't you just love Thanksgiving?" she sighed wistfully, spinning around happily.

"Thanksgiving or Christmas?" Brandon asked doubtfully. She scoffed at him, bouncing the pom-pom on the tip of her hat up and down.

"Thanksgiving, duh. Did you forget it's still November?"

"Did you?" he retorted, gesturing at her hat. She rolled her eyes.

_"Everyone _knows that Thanksgiving marks the beginning of the Christmas season. You know, putting on some blubber to keep you warm, getting out all your cute red and green outfits that are conveniently a size too big so you can eat candy, decorating gingerbread houses, watching Miracle on 34th Street... You know, because that movie starts at the Thanksgiving parade. Which is another thing I love. Omigod, the city during Christmas season in _general! _The tree, the windows... Saks' sale on the 26th..." She sighed contentedly at her daydreams. "Everything is just bigger and better in winter, doncha think?"

"Sure...?"

"Oh, wow, I don't know if I could ever match your enthusiasm," Skyler joked. "What's wrong?"

Brandon flushed. Thanksgiving, while yummy, had not been a particularly memorable occasion in his lifetime. You know, because the turkey in jail was just nasty. And, well, it was in _jail _with his dad. Which, yes, usually makes for a _great _time, but oddly enough, Brandon just didn't feel it. (Note the sarcasm.)

"Well, I mean... I'm not going home, or anything, for Thanksgiving, so... Why does it matter? I'll probably just, I don't know... Order Chinese food and try to call Thalia. But of course, she'll still be mad at me, which leaves me on my lonesome."

Skyler frowned. It seemed unreal that two siblings who were obviously close could remain at odds for so long-after all, she and Leah ahd had the fight of all fights, and they were okay now.

"Why don't you guys just have Thanksgiving with me?" The words spilled out before she could stop them, but she wasn't sure that she minded. Leah wouldn't be there for obvious reasons, and Sean usually had Thanksgiving with them anyways, so it wasn't like it would be a huge trouble to fit in some more seats. Besides, the awkwardness of just her and her parents at the table would be unbearable. There had to be _someone _to diffuse the tension.

"We're just heading out to our weekend house out in Greenwich," she continued. "And with Leah being in quarantine and all, it will be good to have someone around. Of course, we _did _consider talking to her through the glass, but we decided to visit her in the morning and then video chat at dinner. You know, so she can see the house and everything. Maybe it'll feel more homey. And then, we can talk all at once. She'll get her own seat at the table, and we'll watch Christmas movies together and take naps together after eating too much turkey..." She paused, looking back at Brandon. "You and Thalia _really _should come. It's gonna be great. Besides, this place is gonna be a ghost town." She smiled endearingly at him. "Come on," she prodded. "You know you want to come."

Brandon pretended to be torn, screwing up his face pensively. Skyler socked his arm lightly. Finally, he gave in.

"Alright, alright. I'll come!"

"Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!" she squealed, hugging him tightly. He stiffened in surprise, but she didn't seem to notice. "And if my parents ask, I was jut a _goddess _while we were in England, okay? But seriously, this will be so fun..."

He let her trail off in front of him, thinking about the invitation. Truthfully, he was touched that she cared enough to invite him. And, perhaps, a little happy. He hadn't lied to Holden when he said that he liked her. Holden. What was _he _doing for Thanksgiving? There was no way Skyler's parents would let him bring some random kids over. Besides, they were in different dorms and everything. It was probably best to keep their relationship a cordial friendship. Even if it would be nice to have a brother...

* * *

><p>Greenwich. Where else do the rich and bored live? True to form, Brandon could hardly find a crack in the oldest of brick houses, nor could he make up any reasonable explanation as to how that Tudor house could <em>possibly <em>be original, as its owner claimed it to be. And the Finlay's mansion... It didn't disappoint either.

The Finlay's house-_if_ it could be called a house-was ridiculously large, rising three stories above the ground and having another renovated basement below. It was the sole occupant of a winding road that somehow served as a high-tech driveway, complete with a set on iron gates latched on to stone walls. Finally, the road twisted into a roundabout, with a vividly green circle of grass (filled with one-of-a-kind statues of flowers and heroes) in the middle. A forest surrounded the stone fortress, barely held back by the same walls that the gate was attached to. Perfectly groomed trees lined the steps to the door, and windows poked out of the outer wall in pentagonal towers. The roof was a rough minty green color. It truly looked like a princess's castle, which, in theory, it was. Just, the castle of the most modern princesses around.****

Skyler clearly wasn't lying when she said Thanksgiving was a big deal in her family. The amount of florists, cooks, maids, even _butlers _bustling along throughout the front hall was sick, at least to Brandon. Skyler, of course, seemed hardly affected by this, instead greeting all of them by name, wiggling her fingers at some. The entire thing was a little intimidating. But, that had been Brandon's feeling on everything he had seen that day.

And now, here Brandon was, standing in the middle of the elaborately decked out front hall. He felt almost naked in his simple clothes. Skyler's entire family were dressed to a tee: Mr. Finlay in a polo, khakis, and what seemed to be brand new topsiders; Mrs. Finlay in a sundress with a cashmere cardigan thrown around her shoulders; and Skyler in a cream colored cable-knit sweater, sharp green leather jacket, perfectly fitted skinny jeans, and considerably large brown heels with the strappy stuff. (Brandon was a guy. He didn't know _everything _about what girls' stuff was called.)

Needless to say, he and Thalia were just a little out of place. The only people they looked remotely on par with were Clarke and Bridget, who had decided to tag along at the last minute.

Then, suddenly, dinner was on the table, and Skyler was bouncing over excitedly, clapping her hands all the while, as she threw herself in her seat.

"This looks delicious, Gayle," she cooed politely, eying the turkey. Mr. Finlay smiled at her, nodding.

"We certainly have a lot to be thankful for." By tradition, the table went around and stated what they were thankful for. Not so uncommon, right? Maybe, but Brandon was still confused as hell.

"Uh... Not having Thanksgiving in jail this year?"

Everyone stared at him awkwardly. It was well known that Mr. Finlay was one of the lawyers who put Timothy Thomas in jail. Skyler looked like she'd just swallowed some bad milk, Bridget, well... he couldn't really tell what with her scars and all, Clarke was struggling not to laugh, Thalia was just mortified, Mrs. Finlay had on her poker face, and from the computer, Leah looked like she was struggling to stay awake. Mr. Finlay cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well, shall we dig in?"

* * *

><p>"That was horrible," Brandon insisted, ignoring the spark of electricity from where his hand was brushing Skyler's.<p>

"It was not!" she laughed, looking at the night sky. She had been elected to take Brandon on a tour of the extensive grounds, including a guest house, a lake with a deck, a short white building that lined the far edge of the lake, and a gym. Stars were twinkling in the navy atmosphere, and leaves crunched underfoot. The famous New England fall colors were still vibrant in the darkness, serving somewhat as a lantern for the pair. "You just had an interesting thing to be thankful for!"

"Who even does that anymore?" Brandon wondered aloud. "That whole 'I'm-thankful-for...' thing?" Skyler stomped in mock anger.

"I take offense to that because we do that religiously! Besides, is that anyway to treat your host?"

"I have hard being nice to someone who made me feel so humiliated," Brandon smiled, looking down at her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm still glad you came. It was nice to have a distraction from Leah, and... Me being grounded until I die. All that fun stuff."

"Yeah, what's going on with Leah?" Skyler examined the ground.

"Well, you know. She's sick." Brandon rolled his eyes.

"I _mean, _what's going on with you? Just... about Leah?" Skyler looked at him seriously.

"I don't know. I mean, we just got to be friends again. And now she's dying! It's not fair... And, you know, she was so mad at me. And I felt _so stupid. _But at that point, what could I really do? And I just really don't want her to die. Especially not when she hates me." Her voice quivered.

"Skyler," Brandon began gently. "Leah doesn't hate you." Skyler laughed sardonically.

"You didn't hear her. And I mean, what sucks the most is that she has a _point. _God, sometimes I'm just so _stupid! _Besides, even if she doesn't, that doesn't make any of this okay! She can't die, you know? Because she's the only one I really have left," she whispered. "Oh, God, and now I'm gonna look like an idiot and cry. _Of course." _

"She's not the only one you have left, Skyler. You have me." Brandon couldn't stop himself from speaking, despite turning flaming red afterwards.

"Wh-what?"

"I just mean... Um," he stuttered. "If you ever really need someone, I'm there." There was an awkward pause before he decided to continue. _Can't really go back now, _he figured. "Because, well... I always thought you were kind of obnoxious. And you're so... You're so _not. _In fact, you're one of the only people I know who is actually, genuinely _kind. _And right now, both of our lives are kind of screwed up, and you don't deserve it. Really. I guess... I'm just really glad you came to England with us, even if that's selfish because you're in so much trouble because of it. Because... I really like you, Skyler." He didn't notice that the soft sound of her footsteps beside him had stopped until he had finished his speech. Mortified, he stopped in front of her, fidgeting on the grass.

"Brandon." He mentally braced himself for rejection as he heard her walk to be beside him. Her voice was steady now, he noticed. Probably because she knew exactly what she was going to say to turn him down. Was he really enough of an idiot to think he could get _Skyler Finlay? _So she invited him to Thanksgiving. Her sister was dying, and her best friend was dead. He was obviously just a last resort.

"Skyler, I'm sorry, I shouldn't of," he began. But then, she did something he didn't expect. Something he _couldn't _expect, not in a million years. She kissed him.

"I'm really glad I went to England too," she whispered.

**A/N: Eeek! They're finally together! You have no idea how long I've been waiting to write that. What do you think? Review and let me know! Oh, and, happy Thanksgiving!**


	44. Chapter 43

Jay had never been sitting with a more motley crew in his life.

After Holly's death and the multiple tough situations he and Liam had weaseled themselves out of, they had confronted Rawdon about their mission to destroy the Thomases. Luckily, Rawdon was all for it. But, being an absolute coward, he needed his security blanket, also known as: Daelyn.

Call Jay mean or unsympathetic, but he found the girl intolerable. She always had some little teenage game to play, some new dream of being a hero. It was immature, and it was one of the things Jay despised about her. He was sick of dealing with other peoples' childishness, particularly his brother's. He'd spent endless hours being regaled about how Holly could still be alive, since there was no body. Did Jay mention his brother was a fucking moron? Seriously. His IQ was literally minuscule.

"Just to let you know, guys," Daelyn began. Speak of the devil. "This has to work. If this Timothy Thomas really is a criminal, we need to get him behind bars. Because, like, this is my sister who was in danger. You know about that, don't you?" Jay glared blindly in the general direction of her voice. "Well, and someone else too. Who I kind of like but really shouldn't, and really Liam it's all your fault that I can't like him, but I can't tell you why." Jay rolled his eyes.

"Look, stop moaning about your little crush on that Shadow Dorm guy and your pathetic obsession with a sister that quite obviously despises you on multiple levels. If you really want to complain so much, go start a blog or something. Let's be honest here, I wouldn't go commit suicide if you decided you didn't want to be here. But someone who is sadly essential to this whole project is vouching for you," Jay said with a pointed look at Rawdon. "So if you don't have anything important to say, shut the fuck up and go sit in a corner until we're done here. Or, you can put your big girl pants on and stop whining. Got it?" Daelyn nodded nervously.

"Okay, well, uh... Sorry. I have the local news' archives up on my computer so we can search for the obituary of this... uh... victim. So, uh, Rawdon, when do you think you saw the murder?" Jay stared at her blankly.

"Are you literally deaf?" Daelyn suddenly felt very glad that Jay wasn't able to see her blush. "Rawdon, when did this happen?"

"Didn't I just say that?" She couldn't resist maintaining some of her dignity, but held back what she really wanted to say when Jay glared at her yet again.

"Um, well, right before school started... I came up to get my dorm room ready, you know?"

"Get on with it," Jay growled.

"So, I guess, August 29th."

"Then it wouldn't be reported until the 30th or 31st," Jay figured. "Look it up." The only sound to follow was the clacking of Daelyn's keyboard.

"There was one guy that died mysteriously that day," she began. "The police ruled it a suicide, but, um, no one really knows what happened... His name was Owen Harrison. Yeah, Rawdon... Did it happen on Dylan Avenue?"

Rawdon nodded. At the sight of Jay still looking at him expectantly, he clarified, "Um, yes. Wait, did you guys hear something? It's him. It's freaking Timothy Thomas! He knows about us man, and he's come to stop it before we tell the police..."

"You heard nothing," Jay said bluntly.

"Besides, I could fight him off," Liam bragged, flexing his muscles and earning an eye roll from his brother.

"Moving on. Anything else on this guy?"

"Not really, just some facts about who he was succeeded by... He was a lawyer... Wait!"

"Wait, what?" Jay pressed.

"He was one of the lawyers who put Timothy Thomas in jail... Omigod, it makes so much sense now! He was working with Mr. Finlay on the case!"

_Bang! _The entire group tensed as what sounded like dead weight flailed against the door.

"I told you I heard something!" Rawdon announced, oddly triumphant.

"Shh," Jay coaxed him. Liam stood slowly, inching forward to the door. His hand was millimeters away from the knob, just barely brushing it, when it flung open of it's own accord to reveal... Skyler Finlay? With a cup pressed against her ear?

"Uh... Hi!" she said peppily, standing up and putting on her megawatt smile. "I was just... Um, getting coffee! Yeah, I'm cramming for this huge test tomorrow and I just... needed some caffeine! Well, sorry to disturb you, bye!" It all poured out as one long, non-ending word.

"The coffee makers not in here," Liam pointed out. Skyler frowned.

"It's not? Oops, my fault, shows you how tired I am! Better get to bed, good night."

"Wait," Jay called. She pivoted warily. "You obviously heard some stuff. And that okay, but uh... Don't tell anyone, alright?" Skyler nodded enthusiastically.

"Course not. Who would I tell?"

"Your boyfriend, who happens to be Timothy Thomas' son." She flushed.

"Oh, right. Don't worry about it. This would only hurt him, especially if it's not the truth. What's the use, you know? What's it gonna change? I would never do anything to cause him pain, and what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? **(This could also be used to justify another certain lie Squirrelflight told Brambleclaw...) **"But you're sworn to secrecy too, okay?" She winked, returning to her normal self after seeming, for once, like a real person. "I'm usually a better liar than this. You can't go around ruining my rep." Even Jay cracked a smirk.

"Deal."

"Okay then. Have a good night, Jay. Rawdon, Daelyn, Liam." She nodded at each of them in turn.

"Omigod," Daelyn breathed, causing Skyler to turn around yet again, looking more puzzled this time. "You know my name?"

"Yeah. I consider it my duty as class president." Daelyn's smile looked like it was going to break her face.

"Just to tell you, Skyler, I totally voted for you."

"Oh dear Lord," Jay muttered under his breath.

"Thank-you! See you guys around." Skyler grinned graciously before leaving for good.

"She's so cool," Daelyn murmured excitedly.

"I'll still send you upstairs," Jay threatened.

"Sorry!"


	45. Chapter 44

**A/N: Ah, at last, the chapter I've been waiting for! In which everything comes together... Review please! Oh, and btw... I was looking back at past chapters and 38 and 39 had some formatting issues so I edited those all if anyone was having a hard time reading!**

Skyler didn't like him. Holden, that is. Brandon seemed to be enamored with his half-brother, but she knew better.

First of all, he was really goth. Like, _really _goth, and yeah, Thalia could pull that off, but that was because she was a girl, and actually half-decent, and hadn't appeared out of nowhere to magically become Brandon's best friend. None of that applied to Holden, which was why he was categorized as a total sketch.

Plus, he exactly didn't make a great first impression. From behind, he really looked like his brother (like, he was basically a clone), so Skyler had walked up to him and started talking about how annoying her teachers were, and he just turned and stared at her. It was the definition of awkward. So, Skyler asked him if he'd gotten contacts, because, naturally, she didn't know Brandon _had _a brother. And Holden hadn't said anything. He just watched her shift awkwardly in place, twirling her hair like an idiot because she had no idea what had happened to her boyfriend, until the _real _Brandon showed up, all excited because she'd already met Holden.

And then, of course, the jerk was Mr. Friendly, so Skyler had to just smile tightly and shake his hand and giggle about how great it was that the two were reunited to avoid looking like a bitch. And that was fine, because she wasn't Brandon's slave driver and he could be friends with his brother if he really wanted to because he never really got that in his life. It wasn't like he needed her approval to talk to someone. It was just... annoying. Because she didn't have to be friends with him, even if Brandon wanted her to be.

Next, Brandon went off to get some lunch or whatever and was coming right back, but that still left Holden and Skyler alone for a little. Now, Skyler was all game for pretending like she'd just gotten a million texts and fiddling around on her phone, but apparently, Holden wasn't.

"So you're Brandon's girlfriend?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," she said awkwardly, not hiding her distaste as she lowered her phone.

"Well, if you could please tell him that our father's very eager to get in touch with him and Thalia. I would, but I think he would take it better from you. After all, you're closer and everything."

_Now, _Skyler was intrigued. Just because she'd promised not to tell anyone about what she heard last night didn't mean she couldn't _think_ about it. And if Timothy Thomas was a murderer, well... Then it probably wasn't cool or safe for Brandon to be around him. Even if they were father and son. Maybe it wasn't her place to interfere, but it didn't seem right to send him off to a killer. What would Timothy Thomas want with Brandon anyways? Didn't he basically disown him like, _ages _ago?

"That's weird, you know, because from what I know, your father never called. Maybe he should do that instead of making me play messenger."

"Does Brandon tell you everything? Everyone has secrets, you know," Holden shot back.

Again, Skyler wasn't a crazy bitch who thought her boyfriend was leaving her every five seconds. But the implications of what Holden was saying were disturbing, to say the least. Secrets were secrets for a reason, and what could possibly be bad enough to be locked away inside of Brandon, never to tell anyone?

"Anyways, just tell him that my father and I would love to have a serious talk with him. About the family business. You know, it's been unattended such a very long time."

_What, the business of being a creepy ax murderer?_

"Yup." Which, translated into girl language, really meant, "Nope."

But there _was _someone she wanted to talk to about this.

* * *

><p>"Jay Mason, there you are!" Skyler exclaimed over-cheerily, rushing towards him in the busy hallway.<p>

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly. She kept her fake smile on.

"As president, I just wanted to personally assist you to your class!" She pulled him down an empty hallway, shoving him through a door.

"I can get there by myself, idiot. And this isn't it."

_"Obviously," _Skyler scoffed. "I needed an excuse to talk to you." She paused delicately, planning what she was going to say.

"Look, I know we said we weren't going to talk about last night again but there's something you need to know. I don't think Timothy Thomas is alone in this all. I think his son has something to do with it to."

"Uh, aren't you dating his son?"

"Who, Brandon? Oh, not him. His _other _son."

"Great, so you're hallucinating."

"No! He just moved here with his sister. And he's more than creepy. He kept talking to me about how his dad wanted to talk to Brandon about working on some family project or something... And I didn't get the sense it was baking cookies for the homeless. His name's Holden. All suave and charming to the people he _likes, _but a total jerk to anyone else."

"Like you."

"Exactly."

Jay sighed.

"Look, Skyler, are you sure you're not just jealous?" Skyler furrowed her brow.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, because your boyfriend's world doesn't just revolve around you."

Skyler reddened. Why was it that anyone remotely popular immediately became a self-centered, egotistic maniac? Oh, stop the presses, Skyler Finlay had a heart! She just wanted to know someone was doing _something _about her premonition to help her sleep a little better. It wasn't like she was going to the police with some insane theory about a plan to take over the world... She was just letting someone know. You know, _in case. _Besides, it wasn't like Rawdon's stupid story wasn't just as ridiculous.

"God, you're infuriating! This isn't a game to me, alright? I don't want Brandon brainwashed by some psychological need to have a family, and I sure as hell don't want to have to be nice to his crazy dad and brother when I see them with Brandon. I want them gone. I want to _help _you. Really."

Jay hesitated.

"How would you feel if you didn't listen to me and I was right? If someone _else _got murdered by this guy and you could have stopped it?"

Skyler grabbed Jay's arm earnestly, pointlessly raising an eyebrow. She smiled to herself as he began to nod.

"Fine. Look, I'll talk you later. With, you know, everybody else... Just, I really hope you're serious, because we all are about this. We have to be. You can't just be worried about how it will affect your little fling with Brandon."

"It's _not _a fling," she insisted. "I'd spit shake on all of this if it wasn't flu season. I hope you'll take a pinky swear as seriously."

Forgetting again that Jay was blind, she smiled winningly, thrusting out her pinky finger. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder.

"Are you ten years old?" Jay demanded. She rolled her eyes.

"Just shake my damn hand and Timothy Thomas will never take another _step _near this school."

**A/N: Ohhh... What do you think will happen now? Dun dun dun... Oh, and to one certain reviewer who knows who they are... The drama with Leah isn't yet TOTALLY over... I mean, she hasn't even met Crowell yet! ;)**

**Review!**


	46. Chapter 45

Leah's laborious recovery from her strange, exotic disease, was hardly her biggest problem. How could it be, when she was already basically cured, and got to miss school for weeks? No, Skyler was a bigger problem at the moment.

Forgiveness was always easy for Leah, always second nature. In fact, Skyler herself had labeled her sister the 'doormat' of the family. Despite the negative underlying meanings of the title, Leah had always been okay with that. She never really had anything worth getting really mad about. Until now.

Sure, everything was good and well at the hospital. The reunion and all was great and it was nice to hug Skyler again. It was just... that was when Leah was _dying. _It was a last resort, if you will. She believed in all that spiritual junk, and if she was going to die, she wanted to go to Heaven completely unburdened. Besides, Skyler was pretty charming face-to-face. But now that Leah wasn't dying, she could be as burdened as she wanted, and Skyler was going to make up for the months and months of lies and worries that Leah had been forced to suffer through. Somehow. After all, these things all worked out in the end, didn't they? That was always Skyler's excuse for following through with her dim-witted ideas.

Of course, Skyler was never deep or self-conscious enough to think of the sisters' argument as such. To her, it was all a merry game, to be forgotten with all the other toys she had slowly grown tired of and tossed aside. How could she ever be surprised when they weren't just lying there, waiting for her to pick them up again? This knowledge was the only reason why Leah wasn't surprised to see her sister barge into her room as if she owned it, and plop down on the bed.

"You will _not _believe what just happened," she sighed over-dramatically. Leah rolled her eyes in a move more bold than anything she'd done before.

"Then maybe you just... Shouldn't tell me," she suggested. Skyler pushed herself into a sitting position.

"Hey, uh... We're okay, right? Because, you know, at the hospital, I just thought..."

"Thought what? That no one could ever deny you anything? Look, Sky. I was dying. I didn't want to be alone, and I didn't want to have to... I don't know, haunt you for closure or something. Now that that's out of the question, I'm finally letting myself say what I want to say. And what I want to say... Is that you suck on multiple levels for leaving me, and Mom and Dad, and not just being honest about it! The world doesn't revolve around you. It never did, either." Leah balled up a newly cleaned shirt from her laundry bag, still warm from the dryer. To her, the battle seemed already won. What could Skyler possibly rebuttal _that _with?

"I don't think the world revolves around me," Skyler said quietly. "I just can't think that this tiny school in the absolute middle of nowhere is everything there is. God, you just don't get it, do you? Not everyone in this family has to be some sort of scholar, like you, or Dad! And that's all anyone here will _let _me be! Because you know what, Leah, I'm not like you. I'm not particularly smart, and I don't have any sort of special talent, but at least I have a _fucking _spine! You wanna know the real reason you're so mad at me?" She stepped closer to her sister. "Because you're jealous-"

_"What?"_

"-Because I have more than just Mom and Dad! And you want that, some part of you does, I know it. Sometimes I wish I could be just like you too, though. Go through life pleasing people and never fighting or arguing. But you can't do anything for yourself when you live like that, you can't be anything other than the Finlay's little child prodigy. So _please, _Leah, when you realize that you're more than what they make you... Call me."

The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the room like a gunshot, bouncing off the walls. Leah quivered in anger. How dare Skyler talk to her about being a coward? If Skyler was so brave, why didn't she just go and admit what she'd done instead always having a plethora of excuses? Leah would show her who was really at fault here.

So, copying her sister's actions, Leah stormed out of the dorm, stomping furiously down the main street of the small town that bordered Four Oaks. A few cars drifted up and down the road, heading to various homes far away from school, where they could celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa with their family. They probably wouldn't be feeling any tension. Not like the Finlays, who would be struggling to keep up small talk due to the immaturity of... Skyler or Leah? Perhaps it had been Skyler who left, but did Leah want to fight? It would be so much easier to love, as she had always done, than to cause everyone more pain than needed. Could she make that sacrifice? But hadn't Skyler just told her to stand up for herself? If she listened, would that mean she forgave Skyler because she paid attention to her but also still hated her? It was too much to grasp.

Leah allowed herself to wander to and fro, checking price tags in various stores before declaring them all too much to spend and, in somewhat of a daze, crossing the street. Absorbed in her thoughts, she failed to recognize the cars streaming towards her, going too fast to stop in time.

"Hey, watch it!" Strong arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her back to safety. The cars raced past, some of the drivers shouting various obsenities (which she refused to disclose upon further interview, as she deemed it unbecoming, unladylike, and crude to repeat them.) Blood flooded to her cheeks at her stupidity. Weakly, she struggled against the arms around her. Once released, she turned to thank her captor, studying the ground.

"Thanks for saving me...?" She mumbled, unsure of his name.

"Crowell," he finished for her. She looked up to be shocked by electric blue eyes and hair like midnight. It was as if his face had a little part of both night and day in it.

"Crowell," she repeated, nodding. His strangely bright eyes captivated her, and she found herself unable to bashfully memorize the cracks in the brick wall of the coffeeshop before her, as she might have done had it been anyone else.

"I was on that trip to England," he explained. "With, uh... With your sister."

"Oh, yeah, of course." Not that Leah actually knew who he was. Skyler was yet to divulge the details of her journey, and until now, Leah hadn't really wanted to hear them. "Are you... Are you heading home for break?" Crowell shook his head.

"Nah. I would, but, um. Fallon Greyson, she died. On the trip, I mean. Her funeral's coming up, so I'm gonna stick around for that. Didn't... Didn't Skyler mention it?" Yes, now Leah remembered what little she knew about Skyler's hiatus. That girl who died. She hadn't heard anything about a service, though.

"She was upset about her death, but I haven't talked to her much. We're... not on the best terms right now." Crowell smirked.

"How could you be with Skyler? I know from experience that she is pretty infuriating." Leah giggled.

"Tell me about it." They stood awkwardly in silence before Leah spoke up again. "I'm sorry about Fallon. She and I used to play together when we were little. Given that her dad is my dad's best friend, and all. Were you very close to her?"

"Yeah," Crowell said after a pause. "She was nice. At least she'll be in a better place and stuff, now." Leah found that all she could respond to this with was a nod.

"So..." Crowell continued. "Do you wanna... I don't know, get a coffee or something? Recover from your near-death experience?" Leah laughed loudly again.

"Yeah. I think I'd like that.


	47. Chapter 46

Daelyn wasn't quite sure what she was more worried about: Jay killing her, or Ivy killing her. Seeing as they both would lead to the same result, she had to assume that they were equal threats, yet somehow she felt that Jay's murder method would be much slower and more painful than her sister's. With the excruciating glare he was sending her way, she bet she was right.

It was her, Rawdon, Jay and Liam's second meeting in a week and Skyler's first, unless you counted her impromptu pitstop last time. Now, though, the class president seemed much more in the loop, given her substantial knowledge on the Thomas family and the manila folder that she carried, which had the name "Holden Thomas" printed across it in neat black ink. Jay had barely filled Daelyn in on Skyler's involvement with the group and she hadn't much cared, but her curiosity peaked at the sight of the older girl's deadly serious face. The entire group listen attentively as Skyler explained the folder's importance: it was a slightly sketchy member of the Thomas family's permanent record, which had been gleaned from the hands of the innocent front office secretary from Skyler's tenacious will and impressive lying skills. Besides, it wasn't that unbelievable to hear that Mr. Finlay was interested in reviewing Holden's past, given his own history with the family.

There was a strange sense of anticipation in the air as Skyler tucked a finger under the carefully sealed envelope's flap, popping it open. A flood of thick white packets slid neatly into her waiting hand, and she smiled in success.

"Let's just take a look at what Holden isn't telling us, shall we?" she smirked. Carefully, she placed every packet next to each other on the table, flicking lazily through the pages. "I say everyone gets one, and then we see what we've found." Three more pairs of hands dived into the middle, fishing out pages of copies of criminal records and report cards.

"Ahem," Jay interrupted. Everyone looked up at him together, all turning red.

"Well, uh... You can supervise, Jay." He huffed angrily, leaning back in his seat.

"I'm blind, not an idiot."

It appeared that no one heard him, or at least they tried to ignore him. Immediately, the table began leafing through the pamphlets like a well-oiled machine, licking their fingers to catch every page. Occasionally, someone would gasp in shock, distracting everyone from their own tasks, yet no one spoke. As the pile of records dwindled one by one, they slowly began to converse.

"He got, like, freaky good grades at his old school," Liam said in awe. "And he held the record for most sacks of the season. Damn, I bet I could have beat him."

"Apparently they thought he was cheating on some really big tests," Daelyn murmured. "That's why he got expelled, and sent here."

"God, I was right. This guy is a total skeezeball," Skyler declared.

"He lived with his mom though," Rawdon added, being reasonable for once. "He didn't even know his father until a few years ago." Skyler reached for the packet he was looking at.

"Yeah, but she died under mysterious circumstances, too. And he knew his dad by the time all the sketchy stuff he was doing started. The whole cheating thing, and stuff. I say he's still a threat." The group paused, absorbing this information.

"Hey, Liam," Skyler started again. Liam looked up. "Didn't you say Timothy Thomas gave you some pills or something?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Because about a year after he met his dad he was in rehab for steroids. _That's _why he was so good at football, you doof."

_"Oh..."_ Liam nodded. "I still say I could have beaten him."

"Brandon's going to die when I tell him this," Skyler muttered. "It sucks that it's like this, though. It would be fun if he had a brother. Just... not this kind of brother, because I don't want my boyfriend murdered bloodily in some satanic ritual, you know?"

"But this isn't about Brandon," Jay reminded her.

"Of course not. I'm just saying, he's going to be _one _of the people we're helping by doing this."

"Well, Skyler. I just wanna say that it's so sweet for you to be doing this for someone you care about. I know I feel the same way."

"Daelyn, this isn't the time to suck up to your little girl-crush," Jay reprimanded her. She blushed.

"I know, but..."

"Don't worry about it, Dael," Skyler smiled. "We're both doing something really great." Daelyn nodded furiously.

"Uh-huh!"

"Well, I've gotta get this back before it's missed." Skyler gathered the contents of the folder, shuffling them back into place. "See you guys later. Did someone write all this down?" No one nodded. "Oh, well. I'll just make a copy of them on my way to the office, then. Say it's for my dad, or something." With that, she turned away, not noticing the one person lurking outside the common room door. Who could it be? Well, if she didn't see his face, how would she know?

**A/N: Ooh, cliffhanger, kind of! So, how was it? Review please... I always got the feeling Jayfeather and Dovewing didn't like each other, by the way. Maybe I'm just crazy though. Review!**


	48. Chapter 47

Brandon, like everyone else at Four Oaks, was really very confused. Since when did Skyler talk to the Masons? Or that freshman? Not that there was anything wrong with them, per se, but that they lived in such different social stratospheres that the sight of them exchanging words-even briefly, between classes or on the lunch line, was alien. Maybe her surprise at Brandon and Thalia's relative normalcy was affecting her demeanor towards all outcasts. Who could know?

Despite her new attitude towards her social in-equals, though, she seemed to have a pointed dislike towards Holden. At least, that's what it seemed after her first meeting with him.

"So what do you think?" Brandon had asked her eagerly. In response, she shrugged.

"He's alright."

Brandon's heartbeat sped up. He had witnessed enough bloody cat-fights to know that in girl language, this meant that he was _not _alright in the slightest.

"Alright?" he prodded, not really sure he wanted to hear what she had to say. She bit her lip as if she was debating something.

"I don't know, I mean..." Brandon waited patiently for her to continue. "Look, we just didn't get along that well. But he seems nice enough, and I can tolerate him when I see him. Besides, it's not like I have to be best friends with him because you are." She held a hand up, stopping his rebuttal. "I'm not saying you're not allowed to like him. But I think we have different interests, that's all. Okay?"

And then she was back to her normal, cheery self, except for the fact that she stopped to chat with the blind guy and that kid that always looked at Brandon like he expected him to pull out a gun and shoot everyone down. Which kind of hurt. Because didn't Skyler know that that guy was stupid and wrong? It made no sense. So Brandon was stuck looking like an insecure, tweenage girl with an embarrassingly obvious crush and a pathetic lack of self-confidence. (Think Bella Swan.) Not surprisingly, this lead him to multiple internal debates about whether or not he should confront his girlfriend about this, and the serious idea that he should write a letter to one of those tacky advice letters in cheap magazines. (He decided he couldn't stoop that low. Good choice, Brandon, good choice.)

That didn't stop him from being suspicious, of course. He still always kind of watched Skyler and her new BFFLs from the corner of his eyes, listening as if he could actually hear their conversation. His obsessive tendency to do this, however, lead to Holden noticing, which was a big problem, because then Brandon was talking about his relationship problems to the biggest problem, which would create a considerably large problem between him and the aforementioned biggest problem. If that makes any sense.

"So has she been avoiding you?" Holden inquired nosily, zooming Brandon back to the present. He considered this for a while.

"Not really. Just acting weird."

"And you have no idea what might be wrong?"

Ah, the moment of truth had come. Could Brandon own up to the fact that Holden was most probably on the top of Skyler's hit list? Not without starting some kind of World War III between the family, almost in the spirit of the Godfather. So, not feeling up to 'going to the matresses,' **(It's a Godfather reference) **Brandon did the only sensible thing. He lied.

"No idea."

"Maybe she's just a bitch," Holden suggested. Brandon stopped mid-step.

"Dude, she's still my girlfriend."

"Oh, right. I'm just being honest, man. Sorry." He didn't _sound _very sorry.

So maybe the hard feelings Skyler harbored towards Holden were mutual. Perhaps it was simply a clash of interests, but Brandon had a strange feeling that one of them must be at fault for the rift. Which one could it be? Past experience had taught Brandon that Skyler didn't always appear so warm and fluffy on the surface, yet he had a hard time believing she had maintained that persona after dating her number one enemy. She could go either way, he decided. Holden, on the other hand, was a newbie and relatively strange to Brandon. It would make sense to blame him, but Holden had earned Brandon's trust so far. Hadn't he?

Brandon sighed. His life was _way _too much like a poorly written soap opera.


	49. Chapter 48

Skyler's Christmas spirit was seriously diminished after finding about Holden. Yeah, it was what she wanted, but maybe if she was honest with herself, there was a part of her, however small, that wanted Brandon to finally have the family he'd been deprived of. If Holden turned out to be a good guy, at least Brandon would have some hope of that. Now, though, Skyler couldn't let him continue on without knowing the truth. Call her selfish, but she did _not _want her boyfriend to suddenly become a stoner and get ten zillion DUIs.

Her main problem, though, was what she was going to say. _Hey, Brandon, your new best friend and brother is an ex-druggie and probably in cahoots with your murderer of a father? _That didn't sound right. She had always prided herself on being bluntly honest with people, and yet here she was, trying to figure out a way to pad the truth.

"Hey, Brandon?" she started, staring at an invisible bug on the floor. "Can I talk to you about something?" He tensed. Dammit. He probably thought she was breaking up with him, or something. "It's not a bad thing... Well, it kind of is, but it's not about you, it just _affects _you in a way... and..." Smooth, Skyler. Real smooth.

"It's just that," she tried again, letting it hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Well, I was talking to Jay and Liam Mason and Daelyn and Rawdon and all, and they figured something out that I think you need to hear. Something about your dad." There, it was out.

"What?" Brandon demanded. "I thought we were over the whole... criminal thing..."

"Well, we were... _Are. _We are, but it involves Holden too, and I just wanted to tell you that..."

"Go on." Brandon looked murderous.

"Did Holden tell you that he was in rehab? He really only got in here on a scholarship since he somehow managed to get good grades... Anyways, apparently he was involved in all kinds of drug circles and it's just... bad."

"And you believe this crap?" Skyler winced.

"Kind of. Well, I have to, because I have it on _very good authority _that it's true, and..."

"Like _what _good authority?"

"Like..." Oh, well. No going back now. "Like they asked me for his permanent record and I gave it to them!" Skyler looked down. "Look, I'm really sorry about this all, but I had to. Not just because I don't like him, but because, well... I wanted to make sure that no one was gonna get hurt because of him. Like, as in, you and Thalia weren't gonna get hurt because of him.

"And it also said that your dad was involved, see? I mean, I don't think _Holden_ is necessarily a bad guy," (well, that wasn't exactly true...) "but I mean, no offence, your dad definitely is, and he gave Holden all these weird drugs and Rawdon... Rawdon thinks he saw him _murder _someone, and if you read the obituaries for that day, it _fits-"_

"Please, Skyler, that kid's still scared of the dark-"

"I know, but why would he lie about something like this? Someone _died, _and we know that's true! It was this guy, and it was suspicious circumstances, so no one really knows-"

"So it's automatically my dad's fault?"

"No, but-"

"Jesus Skyler, why do you always have to stick your nose into everyone else's business? I mean, you think you're being some kind of saint when you do this stuff, but really, you're just being a judgmental _bitch! _I mean, people can change! Why can't everyone just forget about my last name for _once-"_

"Well, excuse me, Brandon, but if I was hanging out with a serial killer and some guy who regularly participated in drug-driven orgies, I'd hope you'd tell me, too!"

"This is just what I mean, you don't _know _any of that's true-"

"And you don't know that it isn't! Think about it, is this really a risk you want to take?" Brandon looked down. Anger clouded his vision, blinding him from the fact that she kind of _did _have a point. Even if it was a backhanded, cruel point.

"You know what, maybe... Maybe if you're gonna be like this every time I talk to someone that's not you, we shouldn't go out anymore." Skyler faltered for a moment.

"If you're gonna be like this every time someone tries to help you, then _yeah, _maybe we shouldn't!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

_"Fine!"_ Brandon stormed away furiously, leaving Skyler alone. She dropped her head into her hands in frustration, too angry to be sad.

"Mother_eff," _she whimpered.

Oh yes, Skyler. Mothereff indeed.


	50. Chapter 49

Leah felt like she was in a strange game of role-reversal. Usually she was the lonely one in her family, the one that always seemed to have something on her mind. But now, it was Skyler who was sitting awkwardly in the corner. Once upon a time, Leah might have shown some concern for her sister, but now, she couldn't. Could she? No. She was now the cool, untouchable Leah. Not the one that melted every time someone shed a single tear about anything remotely related to her.

This, however, wasn't as easy as it might have sounded. What she needed was a distraction from her sister's pain, and then everything could go on as planned. And who better to distract her than her new best friend, Crowell?

After having coffee that day on the street, Leah and Crowell had met each other two more times and texted non-stop when they were apart. It seemed like a match made in heaven. Leah balanced out his grungy, dark side, and he helped her gain some self-confidence. What was the harm? It wasn't anything official and it didn't break any laws. So really, they were just like any other pair of love struck teenagers.

Leah jogged to the coffee shop she'd come to recognize over the past week. After meeting him there, she had discovered that Crowell, like any emo teen, liked to read his works aloud on open-mic nights and could usually be found there. She was pleased to find her assumption correct, and skipped over to him happily.

"Hey," she squeaked, interrupting him from his book and coffee. At first, he looked angry, but his face brightened upon recognizing her.

"Hi," he replied. For a moment, they stayed there, giggling awkwardly at each other, until he remembered all the stuff his mom had coached him on last night. "Would you, uh, like to sit down?" He gallantly pulled out a chair for her. She smiled, charmed by his chivalry, and sat graciously. "So what's up?"

"Oh, nothing," she sighed, smile fading.

"C'mon, Leah, you know you wanna tell me," he prodded. Again, she chuckled like an idiot and scooted closer to him.

"Oh, it's just my sister... We're in a fight because of everything that happened earlier this year, and, ya know... She's hard to say no to." Crowell nodded sympathetically.

"Totally," he breathed in an attempt to sound interested.

"So do you think I should forgive her?" Leah looked at him desperately.

"No! No, never. She's just... no, don't forgive her. She doesn't deserve it yet."

"I know," she sighed. "But I do love her, because we're family, and she's still my best friend."

"What about me?" he demanded cheekily.

"It's different with sisters," Leah reminded Crowell gently, obviously not catching on to his joke. "Do you ever wish you could just... disappear forever and ever?"

"I know what you mean. When Fallon died, I thought my life was over. I wanted it to be, too. I wished I could go somewhere new and forget all about her."

"Yeah," Leah agreed energetically. "Like you never had any problems." They were silent for a few moments, before Crowell spoke.

"We could do it," he suggested boldly. "Start a new life somewhere new. That would teach Skyler to run away, eh?" Leah laughed wistfully.

"Yeah, if only life was like that. That's something I never realized about you, Crowell. You're funny." He turned beet red.

"I was being serious." Now Leah blushed.

"Oh."

"So... What do you think?"

"About leaving together?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know, Crowell. Ask me some other time. When we're older, and actually ready for that kind of stuff." (That was Leah, the eternally responsible one.)

"I wish you'd say yes."

"We hardly know each other!"

"But don't you like me?" Leah hesitated.

"What about our parents? Our friends?"

"Eh, they'd move on," Crowell asserted indifferently. "Besides, we wouldn't have to worry about that. We'd be free."

"Free," Leah repeated.

As they spoke, scenes from romantic movies played in her head. It seemed so real before her and attainable. Everything would just melt away until she had no baggage, just a new name in a new town. But then she pictured Skyler's 'casket' being lowered into the ground, and everything dissolved.

"I have to go," she managed, grabbing her bag and haphazardly laying down a twenty for her untouched coffee. It was too much, all of it. She couldn't just up and go after she shunned her sister for doing the same thing. It was impossible. Besides, Crowell could be anyone. She couldn't put her entire life in his hands. Although, she didn't think he was the type to keep dark secrets. Was he? There were too many unanswered questions, but she had to admit one thing.

That was one hell of a distraction.

**A/N: Not my best, but I wanted to get it out there. Review, please!**


	51. Chapter 50

Skyler needed proof.

Proof that Holden was a creep, proof that she wasn't a judgmental bitch, and proof that Timothy Thomas killed some random guy. Well, the last one she wasn't super concerned about, but Rawdon was, and they were 'in this together' and all that sentimental jazz.

Now, the real question: How does one get proof? The answer: photo evidence. And that involved doing some slightly sketchy spying in seedy areas while wearing a big floppy hat and sunglasses. (The newspaper to hide your face was optional, but perfect for those with a dramatic flair, so Skyler had a copy of the Wall Street Journal in her bag.) And yes, this kind of made her look even_ more _out of place at the underground kegger she was crashing, but it worked for all the people in movies, so it worked for her.

"Skyler Finlay? What are you doing here?" came a slightly drunken voice. "Aren't you like, grounded for life for running away?" Skyler hissed.

_"Actually, _Ashton, I am Agent 11, and I am on a top secret mission, so _please _stop talking to me." Displaying the serious lack of listening skills that got him held back twice, Ashton flopped down next to her.

"_Oh-_kaayy, Agent 11. What's this oh-so-secret mission about?" Skyler threw him a sidelong glance, internally debating whether he could be trusted. She was a girl; gossiping was second nature! Besides, if Ashton knew Holden, he could probably tell her something that could be used against him in court. It wasn't completely impossible.

"Do you know Holden Thomas?" she demanded, leaning forward confidentially, as if anyone could hear their conversation over the roar of music. Ashton nodded.

"Yeah, he's a cool guy."

_"No, _he is not a _cool _guy," Skyler huffed. "Why does _everyone _think he's a cool guy? Because frankly, he kinda looks like those perverted guys on those Unsolved Mystery shows that old men watch. But _no, _no one can listen to _me! _Yeah, well, maybe when they get killed, they'll realize that I'm right, and regret saying... stupid... things to me." She crossed her arms stubbornly, ignoring him when he patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Calm down there, Agent 11," he giggled, confirming his status as a little bit tipsy. "Why is your name Agent 11, anyway?" Skyler bit her lip.

"When I was little, 11 was my favorite number, and when I started counting, I'd say 11 every few numbers." **(This is true. I counted like, '1... 2... 11...' for a LONG time.)**

"That's kind of stupid," Ashton pointed out bluntly.

"Yeah, well, you're kind of stupid," Skyler muttered under her breath. Something seemed to be bothering her. It was one of those moments when the problem was on the tip of your tongue, but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't remember.

"You," Ashton began, poking her in the shoulder. "Need to loosen up. Have a drink, stay a while."

"I really shouldn't. Remember? I'm here on business, Ashton. Strictly business."

"C'mon, Skyler, you don't _seriously _believe that there's something going on with Holden Thomas, do you?" he demanded, rolling his eyes and laughing to himself.

"Well, uh..." she murmured, blushing.

"Besides," he continued. "He's not even here tonight. Something about studying for a test, something nerdy like that... See? He's so good two-shoes, he couldn't _possibly _be a murderer! Well, anyways, you came all the way down here, and you've already wasted a good part of the night with a stick up your ass... Might as well have some fun, right? Take a drink." Skyler looked forward stubbornly.

"Maybe just one," she squeaked out of the corner of her mouth. Ashton grinned.

"Fabulous!"

* * *

><p>A few drinks, a game of pool, and a drunken walk home later, Skyler lay safely in her bed, giggling to herself about everything she saw. Look, there was a bra in the laundry! Wasn't that hilarious? But it was only then that she realized what the nettling feeling she'd had all night was:<p>

She'd broken her promise to Sean.


	52. Chapter 51

It had always been a hobby of Leah's to people watch. Creating stories for other people's lives came easily to her, which was near shocking given the fact that she rarely gossiped. No, it was merely a little way of entertaining herself when she ran out of good books to read. She wasted many hours comparing hers to those of the characters she made up when she saw them; how would Casey Katz, the girl who was running to catch a train yesterday to buy smuggled furs, deal with this situation? Of course, Casey Katz was most likely just a girl going into the city to go shopping and get drunk in some football bar.

Now, though, Leah found herself in her own, complicated saga. Her phone buzzed endlessly with texts from Crowell, who was desperate to escape the trials of high school life. Whether or not she really wanted to go with him wasn't even a question on his mind. They were in the throws of young love, why wouldn't she go? Leah wasn't so sure. The tragedy of Skyler's 'death' was still fresh in her family's memory, and it seemed impossible to force everyone to relive that. Who knew, though? Maybe everyone would understand this time. After all, Skyler was pretty easily forgiven by everyone and currently she was... Well, Leah wasn't sure what she was doing. Because she was so angry. If she left, then everyone would be that mad at her. It was just like when they were younger and Skyler, the more headstrong of the twins, would constantly pull some crazy stunt. Trying to be cool, Leah would mimic her, and suddenly she was in a time-out.

But if she just stayed away forever, like Crowell wanted, then she would never even be in harm's way. It really would be a true fairy tale. Never having to worry about being upstaged by her sister, or disappointing her parents. Perfection to a tee. The economy was on it's way back up, and they both had discovered that their savings accounts were peculiarly larger than expected. They could sign up for some online courses and get jobs to support themselves. (Leah was sure that Emma Woodhouse of Jane Austen fame would be envious of her adventure.)

Biting her lip, Leah forced herself to make a decision. Both paths had risks to them. But wasn't what she always wanted a story to tell everyone? Even if Skyler had done the same thing before, it was not in the same way or for the same reasons. This would be fanciful and shocking and gorgeously romantic. When it came down to it, what choice did she have? A true romantic at heart, Leah believed in the power of first love and she was sure that she and Crowell had found it. This was her chance. She had to take it.

Her hand shook as she dialed Crowell's number, bringing the phone carefully to her ear. A bell droned softly in her ear a few times before a familiar, gruff voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Crowell? Hi. It's me. Well, Leah. If you didn't get that." (She was guilty of babbling discursively when nervous.)

"Oh, uh, hi Leah. What's up? Is... Is everything okay?"

Oh no. Maybe he'd moved on. Maybe she wasn't supposed to call unless it was an emergency now. That ship had sailed. Oh well, too late to hang up now.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she squeaked.

"Well, it's 3 AM."

"Oh." Leah hesitated. "Sorry if I woke you."

"S'okay," she heard him mutter drowsily. He sounded impatient, like he was ready to hang up. Better get out with it, Leah. No better time than the present, right?

"Well, I wanted to let you know that I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and... and I think I know what I want to do. About the whole, um... thing, you mentioned." She could almost see him jumping up in anticipation.

"Oh, _oh," _he realized. "So, uh... Yeah. What-what did you, er, decide, I guess?" Leah inhaled deeply through her nose.

"I..." She smiled to herself, excited for the first time about the prospect of really starting over. "I think I wanna do it. Run away. Yeah, actually, I _know _I wanna do it. Let's do it." She restrained herself from jumping up and down.

"Great! Perfect! We can leave... soon, now, whenever!" Apparently, Crowell did things on impulse. Well, that had been clear from the beginning, come to think of it.

"Should we pack, or...? Where are we even _going?" _She couldn't stop herself from giggling excitedly.

"Anywhere! Nowhere... Vegas or something, New York! Whatever! We can do _whatever _we want."

"O-Okay, just, just let me pack, and... I'll come over, and we can go."

"I'll see you then."

"Okay."

Leah didn't expect herself to hang up first, but suddenly she only wanted to pack her bags and leave. There was a whole new life to get to out there. Everything she had secretly wanted was waiting just out of reach, and she only needed to reach a little bit further before she achieved her goals. Finally, for once, she had her own passion. She wouldn't have to listen to Skyler whine or spend entire days reading books. Leah was a people-watcher no more. Now, she would be watched herself.


	53. Chapter 52

**A/N: Hey! So so so sorry for the wait... We just found out my grandma has cancer and she was rushed to the emergency room the other day, so we've been spending a lot of time figuring that out. Good news is I actually know where this story is gonna go now and I should be able to knock it off in a few more chapters. **

If you really want to annoy a blind guy, ask him if he needs help with anything. Need proof? Just ask Jay.

Half of his life had been spent on the arm of some random stranger who thought he couldn't walk up the stairs properly. Newsflash: blind doesn't mean stupid. Nor does it mean they enjoy being spoken to like a three year old.

Maybe _that's _why he was always in a bad mood, not just because he couldn't see, but because he could no longer lead a normal, solitary existence. Whatever the reason, he was at his worst on the day that he saw (well, _heard, _but you get the point) Timothy Thomas recruit his entire family to his plan.

What plan, you ask. Well, Jay wasn't really sure. The conversation seemed to be going nowhere fast, the only clear objective being that all of the Thomas kids were on board to act like one big, happy family.

"You're _actually _being totally serious about this?" a girl's voice came. It was Thalia, as far as Jay could guess. "You think we act all chummy and we're the next Brady Bunch?" Jay snorted to himself.

"Thal, calm down." Ah, Brandon. What had happened to him, anyway? After his break-up with Skyler, he'd effectively disappeared. Jay supposed that with no further connection to the metaphorical royalty of Four Oaks, he'd been restored to his former title as social outcast. "Maybe... Maybe we could just be a real family now." Isn't that sweet? Like the lost little boy inside of Brandon was just hammering away at his cage. It was straight out of a Lifetime movie. Gag.

"I'm still mad at you," Thalia warned in a 'duh' voice. "Besides, your last relationship lasted two seconds. Why would I take this kind of advice from _you? _This is obviously just some ploy to gain public sympathy or something." Hey, she was smarter than she seemed.

"Trust me," Timothy coaxed.

"I wouldn't _trust _you with the life of a deer tick! And where's... God, I don't even know my own _sister's _name. Where is the new girl?"

"Margaret," Holden supplied. "My sister had a prior commitment, but I assure you, she will agree to this." Thalia cackled.

"Yeah, that sounds real trustworthy. What are you doing, torturing the poor girl?"

_"Actually, _she just wanted to get to know all of us better," Timothy announced. "She had no problem making a few public appearances."

"Public appearances? Are you crazy enough to run for governor or something?"

"Of course not." Timothy sounded irritated. "Only my colleagues would vote for me, anyways."

Colleagues? Jay wasn't aware that serial killers worked in packs. It was possible they were only from a regular job, but the Thomas patriarch didn't seem to be seriously employed anywhere. Who would take him? A stint in jail doesn't look great on a resume, you know.

"So you considered this far enough to who would vote for you?"

"Stop twisting Dad's words!" Jay was losing faith in Brandon by the second.

"Why do you trust him? After all he's done?" Silence.

"I-I don't know... I guess... I just... do."

"Well I don't. Let me know if you want to extract yourself from this little puppet show of his." There was the sound of wood scraping against tile, and then clipped footsteps towards the door. Bye bye, Thalia. Hope you stay alive long enough to let other people in on your familial issues.

There was a loud sigh, and some murmuring in tones so hushed that not even Jay could hear. It appeared that the others had been dismissed with the promise of another, more private meeting. _Good move. _Jay grumbled to himself. While the conversation was interesting, it didn't appear to have any real meaning. What was the point of knowing that Timothy Thomas wanted his family's help with something if you didn't know what for? It was like being expected to complete a puzzle with only one piece. Useless.

**A/N: Rushed, but I wanted to get it out there. Review please!**


	54. Chapter 53

There was one way to distract a teenage girl from what seemed to be the tragedy of her lifetime, and that was to inform her of a bigger, larger tragedy that completely usurped any previous concerns. Example: Skyler had spent the past week weighing the pros and cons of calling Brandon, and then her sister disappeared with the emo guy that went to England with her. It was certainly big enough to make everything seem minor in comparison, yet somehow Skyler wasn't really worried about her sister being gone: Leah would be okay, of course she would. It more irked her that she had done this same thing a few months ago and had put everybody through all of this trouble without so much as a note. She was struck with how cruel it sounded.

Leah, being the sensible one, had thought to leave a hurried note on her parent's door, explaining where she was and who she was with. It was quick and to the point, but somewhat reassuring nonetheless. Reassuring or distressing.

Reassuring because it was clear she hadn't been kidnapped or anything. Distressing because she eloped with another sixteen year old after knowing him for like, two weeks. Apparently mid-life crises were happening sooner and sooner. Maybe that had something to do with it.

"Sky!" her mother called from downstairs. "Call your sister, will you? Maybe she'll listen to you... You know, you were always so close." Judging on the recent state of things, Skyler highly doubted it. Despite this, she found herself dialing Leah's number robotically and waiting through the soft drones of the line. Her thumb hovered over the 'end' button, but just before she could press it, a voice shocked her.

"Hello?" It was Leah. Who else would it be? Skyler wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Leah," she started hesitantly. It felt strange to be the shy one. Her entire life, Skyler had always been confident and collected. She knew exactly what to say to slither out of trouble or smooth over problems. The new fear of speaking was alien to her. "Look, it's me. Skyler. Mom wanted me to call."

"Oh," Leah breathed. "You found my note then."

"Yeah. We did. And... Well, I'm not gonna ask you where you are, because I guess I deserve this or whatever for leaving, its just that... you're not just doing this to me, you know. You're putting Mom and Dad through this too. And I know I sound like a real hypocrite, but I'm trying to save you from becoming one. So think really hard before you do whatever you and... Crowell, want to do. That's all." The silence on the other end lasted so long that Skyler thought she'd been hung up on.

"We're in Vegas," her sister's quiet voice finally whispered. "We're gonna get married." Skyler sighed.

"Leah... Look, is that even legal? You're sixteen. You've know this guy for what, a few weeks?"

"We're in love," Leah defended childishly. "And we're still figuring out the logistics. We can get some signatures or fake IDs, or something."

"Why do you want to do this so badly? Because you love him or because you want to... rebel, or something?"

"Of course I love him! We make each other happy, and we were meant to be together, and..."

"If you make him so happy, then won't he wait for you? Maybe you're right and this is it, but... It's easier to wait a few years and know you're making the right choice than to have to erase a whole stage of your life."

"But..." Leah's voice sounded small and remote. "I have to do this. For me." Skyler stayed silent. "Look, Sky, I should... I should go. I-I love you. Give Mom and Dad my best, okay?" A long beep told Skyler she'd been disconnected. Sighing, she dropped her phone on the bed. She'd always assumed she'd be the first to get married, or that even if it _was _Leah, she'd serve as the maid of honor. An elopement in a trashy chapel in the desert... It just didn't seem like Leah.

Mind spinning even more than before, she trudged downstairs. Her mother looked at her expectantly.

"Um, she... She didn't pick up," Skyler mumbled. Her mom nodded, biting her lip.

"I just really hope she knows what she's doing."

"Yeah," Skyler agreed. "Me too." A clamor came from the dining room, where her father was seated. He emerged momentarily, tugging on a jacket.

"I'm going out," he muttered briskly. "I figure I should call Crowell's parents."

"Dad," Skyler tried. "It's not his fault." He looked up at her, nodding.

"I know. But they have to come home, all the same, and I'm not gonna be the only one looking. Maybe they'll be able to be of some help." It occurred to Skyler to tell them that Leah didn't want help, that she sounded happy on the phone, even if it all was ridiculous, but before she could say anything, the door was slammed, and her father was gone.

**A/N: Not great, but it's something. Review!**


	55. Chapter 54

Brandon didn't think Holden and his dad were making much sense. They kept exchanging these weird glances, gesturing to certain students as they watched them from their vantage point on the balcony above campus. The most they would say about it was that it was some kind of game to them and it would all be worth it in the end. Oh, yes, that's reassuring. Not.

What was supposed to be a simple lunch was quickly turning into something much bigger. Since Thalia had jumped ship, all Brandon could think about was whether or not Skyler was right, and if his family really was a bunch of crooks. Two people he trusted had said so thus far. They logic on their side, too. It would be impossible to deny the criminal records. But... people changed. They grew. And wasn't life all about reconciling with your family while you had the chance?

"Dad, what was this supposed to be about again?" Brandon murmured to his father, searching for something that would allay his fears.

"Just getting to know you better, son." Brandon hesitated.

"But you've just been staring at the quad for the past..." He consulted his watch. "Hour."

"I'm people-watching! If you want to talk, though, let's talk. So, how's school?" Timothy's eyes didn't move, even though he claimed to be focused on his family. "That girl you were seeing, how's she?"

Brandon blushed, staring at the ground. It wasn't like he'd wanted to let things end with Skyler. It just didn't sit well with him to listen to her slam his family all day. Even if his best interests were at heart, he couldn't handle going back to being the Thomas kid, the first suspect whenever anything went wrong, just because of who he was associated with.

"We broke up a while ago," he informed his dad shortly.

"Ah. Well, I never liked her much anyways."

"Dad, you've never met her." His father turned to him, finally making eye contact.

"Yes, well. Those Finlay's always have some sort of an angle. Trust me, kid. They're not good news."

Brandon leaned back in his chair, troubled. He'd blamed so much of the tension between the two families on the Finlay's, although it sometimes seemed as though his father was the real culprit. Anything and everything that was remotely unsatisfactory was because 'that Finlay guy' was in charge or 'those two Finlay twins were here the other day.' For the first time that day, Holden spoke.

"Dad, he's here."

Immediately, Timothy's eyes flicked back downwards. He zeroed in on a man with fiery red hair walking stiffly to the office building. Brandon's stomach clenched. Speak of the devil.

"You're waiting for Skyler's dad?" he gulped.

"Quiet, Brandon. We have to take care of this," Holden snapped.

"Holden, where's the kid you said you hired? I thought we had this set," Timothy growled.

"We do. He should be there... Ah. I see him now."

Brandon followed their gazes downwards, finally settling on Ashton, who was jogging up to Mr. Finlay happily, blocking his path. The clearly irritated principle subtly attempted to edge around him, only to be cornered again.

"Now," Timothy barked.

"Dad... What's going on?"

"Do it, Holden, do it!"

Even though it was all Holden's responsibility, Brandon felt his organs scramble in anticipation as his brother reached into the pocket of his heavy winter coat. He'd seen enough cop shows to know what happened next. His mouth was dry with shock and his eyes were wide as a hand gun emerged and was pointed straight at Mr. Finlay's head.

What happened next was a mystery to Brandon. Well, he knew, but he didn't. It was like he had died and was watching the world from the point of view of an angel. Everything fit seamlessly together: what Skyler said, what Thalia accused Timothy of. "No!" he saw himself shout. His fists wrapped themselves around his half-brother, throwing him to the ground. But it was too late. A shot echoed through the campus, sending the crowd of students running. Brandon held his brother fast to the ground, struggling to keep control of him.

"Let... Go...," Holden managed, grabbing his upper arms mightily and rolling them over.

Brandon aimed a knee at his stomach. In the back of his mind, he realized it was kind of exhilarating. Who knew attacking your brother could be so much fun? Maybe he'd become a cop one day. It didn't take too long to change his mind when the barrel of the gun faced him, Holden's pale fingers struggling for the trigger. It was impossible. Maybe Holden was a bad guy, but he wouldn't kill his family. No one could. It was against human nature. Right?

Instinctively, Brandon grasped the barrel, rounding it on his brother. Holden wouldn't shoot, he couldn't. They would just grapple like this until the police came. There would be no second bullet.

But then there was, and Holden Thomas was dead.


	56. Chapter 55

It was very clear to Liam that blind people weren't quite as blind as everyone thought. At least, Jay wasn't. And that Jenna girl from Pretty Little Liars. There was no way she couldn't see. But, back to the point of this all: Jay had instructed Liam to be at the quad at 12:30 to watch over some little Thomas family meeting. So, oh-so-discreetly, Liam tip-toed over to a bench directly across from school cafe and pulled out his handy-dandy spy kit. Sky Mall always comes up with the darndest things, doesn't it? Who knew one would come in handy while witnessing a murder?

Fast-forward half an hour, and Liam was still there, although he had now obtained a turkey sandwich and a frown. He had stuff to do. It was a Saturday! He should have been partying, or something. Why was he spying pointlessly on these people? They were just talking in circles and people-watching. What was weird about that? Girls did that all the time.

But, naive little Liam did not consider that girls most definitely leave their firearms at home when going out for a chat. So it came as somewhat as a shock to him when Holden pulled out a gun. (Jay would get him for that later, he was sure. At the moment, it didn't really matter.) It _did _occur to him, however, that when a student like Ashton engaged in a lengthy chat with the school principle that happens to put him directly in the line of fire, something weird was up. Brandon looked like he had a handle on Holden, so Liam went to grab Ashton. And check on his principle. Yeah, that too.

Trouble was, Ashton was a fabulous actor and had a wealth of fake tears when Liam approached him.

"Oh my God, dude, is he dead? Wha-I can't believe this!" So Liam did what he did best and socked him in the nose. Cue idiotic student fainting on school grounds. It may not have been his shining moment, but when your principle is lying on the ground dying and you could easily be blamed, it's safe to say your judgement is liable to be clouded. Just a little bit.

At the second gunshot, it was clear that someone should have been calling the police, and an ambulance. Duh. Somewhat in a daze, Liam told some little freshman to do so. All his life, he'd read about tragedies and heroes who said they had an out of body experience. Every time, he wondered how they could brush off what would be remembered as the defining moment of their life as a normal incident, like taking a walk to the store. Now, he finally understood. It wasn't him or what he felt about what was going on that mattered: it was Mr. Finlay, who was quite possibly dying, who had a family and a lot of people depending on him and a whole lot more to live for than Liam ever would. The fact that Liam was remotely near to him at the time, or that he was more terrified than he'd been after watching Paranormal Activity for the first time, seemed minor in comparison.

Later, when the air was fraught with sirens and night had settled on the tiny school of Four Oaks, Liam sat down next to Brandon in the police station, feeling surprisingly exhausted, given the fact that all he'd really done was punched a guy and picked up the phone. Brandon obviously felt the same way, with his glazed over eyes and mouth that was open enough for drool to dribble out.

"Sorry about your brother," Liam muttered awkwardly. What do you say when a murderer gets killed? In the privacy of your own home, you say 'good riddance' and then turn up your Wicked soundtrack to 'No One Mourns the Wicked,' but when you're faced with the fact that somewhere, that person met something to someone, there's nothing really to say. In the end, is there any difference between the death of a bad person and the death of a good one? They both had a childhood, and were loved by someone. The only real thing that set apart is that somewhere along the way, one got a little sidetracked and met up with the wrong group of people, beginning the downward spiral that would end in a mistake too big to take back.

"Don't be," Brandon replied, freeing Liam of any awkwardness that lingered between them. "Skyler was right."

"Skyler?" He nodded.

"Yeah. Well, I guess you were too, you and Jay and those freshmen you were working with. I really thought you were crazy, you know." Liam shrugged.

"Well, Rawdon probably is, deep down inside." Brandon smiled pathetically.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure...?"

"Do you think I killed him?" Liam didn't know quite what to say.

"Uh..."

"Holden. I mean, I turned the gun on him because he pointed it at me, but I... I didn't pull the trigger. I didn't think he'd actually _shoot." _Brandon's normally strong form trembled under the weight of his confession. It was a lot to handle, seeing your sibling die like that. Liam tried to push the memories of Holly's voice fading as the train swept her away from his mind.

"Nah," he whispered. "You did what you had to do. You didn't kill him, though. He, uh... He killed himself." Feeling like another person for the second time that night, Liam slapped a hand on Brandon's back uncomfortably. It worked to reassure people in movies, though, so maybe it would work for him? Apparently, not so much. Brandon broke down into embarrassingly loud sobs, leaving Liam to pass him a used tissue in yet another mediocre attempt at solace.

It was going to be a long night.

**A/N: Sorry that kinda sucked, I just wanted to get another chapter out... There should be like, two chapters left! Eeek! Review please!**


	57. Chapter 56

**A/N: Leah and Skyler POVs... We're almost at the end!**

Leah had been expecting angry texts. Sad ones, too. She had the perfect response to whatever her parents might say to her all planned out. If they told her she was ruining her future, she'd offer to enroll in some classes in Vegas. If they threatened to disinherit her, she'd tell them she didn't care. She and Crowell were in love; that was all that mattered. Right? The one thing she had not been banking on, however, was a brief texts from Skyler informing her that their father had been shot and that she had to come home - just in case the worst happened.

Needless to say, Leah's bags were repacked in a nano second. She'd only been at the Vegas hotel room for maybe an hour when she found out, but her things were already organized into neat drawers and cabinets. She breezed through the room, folding and refolding everything she could find before tossing it into her bag.

"Woah," was all Crowell could say when he walked back in. He'd been out getting some stuff at the store for them when he'd gotten Leah's urgent call that they needed to talk. He wasn't extra concerned, there was no way she was pregnant, and they wouldn't, couldn't break up. They were soul mates, after all. What more was there?

"We have to leave," Leah choked out, not looking up from her work. "My dad - he's been shot, and-. We just have to go." Not caring if he sounded selfish or insensitive, Crowell protested adamantly.

"But- we just got here, and they don't matter, and he'll... he'll be fine." Finally, Leah made eye contact with him.

"Crowell," she said, not bothering to wipe away the tears that trickled down her cheeks. "It's my dad."

"But... We left. We want to stay together, right? Together... here. You know it wouldn't work back there."

"Exactly!" Leah squealed. "Look, Crowell, I love you, or think I love you, or whatever, but... If we were really meant to be, couldn't we make it work with our _family _around us?" Crowell's lips flailed around silently, searching for words.

"Are... You... Saying... Romeo and Juliet weren't meant to be? _They _ran away." Channeling some serious Skyler attitude, she rolled her eyes.

"Romeo and Juliet both die. And... Just because you don't want a life with your family, doesn't mean I don't! I mean, they're my parents... I love them."

"And you don't love me?" Crowell prodded quietly. Leah looked down.

"I don't know," she murmured. "We just... We gotta go."

* * *

><p>One <em>very <em>awkward car ride later, Leah found herself engulfed in her mother's arms. Skyler stood uncomfortably beside her, biting her lip and checking the time. Instead of hugging her, Leah waved timidly, as if they were just middle school acquaintances who had had a chance meeting at the grocery store.

"How's Dad?" she asked anxiously. Half of her hoped that they knew something substantial about his condition while the other half was silently praying that it was still too soon to tell: it was a bad habit of her's to delay hearing bad news. (Not that it would be bad. If it was. Which it wouldn't be. Because he would be okay. He _had _to be okay.)

"He-he'll be alright," her mother sighed tremulously, wiping her eyes. "We have the Thomas kid to thank for that." Skyler shook her head.

"God, Mom, memory loss much? He was the one who shot Dad, not saved him." Mrs. Finlay raised an eyebrow.

"No, darling, that was Holden. That, uh, Brandon boy you went to England with? He managed to hold him down for a while, but the gun fired and shot Holden. Under any other circumstances, it would be quite sad, really." Skyler perked up visibly.

"So... Brandon stopped him?" Mrs. Finlay looked irritated.

"That's what I just said."

"Um, I, uh, have to go... talk to someone," Skyler mumbled, pulling on her coat as she spoke. "If Dad wakes up, tell him I'll be there soon."

"Skyler, where on earth are you going?"

"Somewhere," she called over her shoulder, practically running to the door of the hospital waiting room. "I'll be back in like, an hour."

Privately, Leah smiled softly. Through everything, Skyler remained the spontaneous, slightly crazy person she'd always been. Everything could change, but some things would stay the same.

* * *

><p>Skyler wasn't exactly sure where she was marching off to, but she continued on anyways. One tiny little voice in her head said that she should probably try to be sympathetic about Brandon's loss, but the bigger part of her was happy (and perhaps a little bit smug) that he was no longer on the same side as a couple of murderers.<p>

When the entirety of campus proved to be Brandon-free, she found herself bounding up the dorm stairs, straight to his door. Rapping impatiently on the hardwood, she attempted to put on a comforting look, but ended up with a kind of nervous grimace.

"I heard what you did," she declared the moment the door was open. "And, uh, I'm sorry about Holden and stuff." Brandon smirked and propped himself up in the doorway.

"Go ahead, say what you really think, Skyler." She sighed in relief.

"I totally told you so," she bragged. "And he was a douche bag and completely deserved what he got. But, um, I'm still sorry it ended up like this and everything. Just not that sorry. You know, given the circumstances."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but..." He dramatically sucked in huge breath. "You were right." He exhaled. "But it still sucks." Shyly, Skyler reached over to squeeze his hand.

"I know," she nodded. Smiling mischievously, she added, "But you're a guy, so no one will care if you eat like, twenty cartons of Ben and Jerry's to get over it. Plus, your brother just died so everyone will totally give you a free pass." He chuckled softly.

"You're ridiculous."

"I know." Nibbling on her lip, she glanced at the time. "I should get back to my dad and all." Brandon nodded.

"Uh, yeah, definitely." He hesitated. "So..." He held out a hand. "Truce?" Skyler grinned, leaning over to kiss him quickly on the lips.

"Truce," she agreed, walking backwards towards the stairs. "I'll see you around, Brandon." He laughed.

"See you, Skyler."

Maybe those twenty cartons of Ben and Jerry's wouldn't be needed after all.


	58. Chapter 57

Jay wasn't sure what to feel. Over the course of a day, he'd become a hero. When Liam was asked about his presence at the crime scene, he'd immediately explained the long process of proving Rawdon's theories against the Thomas's right. Of course, hoards of easily excited townspeople had become obsessed with the 'next generation' of James Bond, and suddenly, they were everywhere.

It didn't matter so much to Skyler. She was already popular; what harm could even more love do her? Liam was personable and didn't mind. Rawdon was kind of having a panic attack, but he'd survive. Daelyn was basking in the spotlight and had recently been spotted with a girl who looked like her sister and a boy who was suspiciously non-Thunder Dorm. (Wonder who that could be?) For Jay, though, it was different. For the first time, he was finally more than his blindness.

His entire life, Jay had been plagued by faceless voices asking him if he needed help getting to class or going up the stairs. He didn't even try to hide that it was annoying. But now, he was known for something different; he was the leader of something different. Cold as it sounded, it didn't matter as much to him if he'd convicted Timothy Thomas of attempted murder as it did that when he walked down the street, people wouldn't just think _blind. _And even if they did, it would be coupled with something else. _Hero. _That meant something, you know?

In other news, the case on Owen Harrison's mysterious death was reopened, and Timothy and Holden Thomas were indefinitely being held without bond until the trial for attempted murder of Mr. Henry Finlay took place. Now that the threats to the family were eliminated, the Finlay's were doing extremely well. Both of their daughters were home safely after their respective way-too-early mid-life crises trips to various locations around the world. Mr. Finlay just announced he was running for mayor, or governor, or senator, or... something. Does anyone really pay attention to that stuff? Well, he was running for public office. Skyler was back with Brandon, Leah had broken up with Crowell, and all was right with the world.

But take that with a grain of salt. This was Four Oaks. If there wasn't some drama, it would shrivel up and cease to be. So something was bound to go wrong, sometime... Just not quite yet. At least, here's hoping it wouldn't. Who knew tranquility could be so therapeutic? If things continued to be so slow up at Four Oaks, they could have converted it into a spa. Four Oaks totally sounds like a spa name, doesn't it? (Hey, maybe if this whole writing thing doesn't work out, I can go into advertising!)

Anyways, it's the moment you've all been waiting for. The many problems of the current classes at Four Oaks were solved. Voila! So, what are you still here for? Go do something with yourself. God knows the world doesn't need any more people sitting on their couches, staring at their computers, slowly becoming morbidly obese. Now leave!

Oh, right... One last thing:

THE END.

**A/N: And we're done! Now, I know I suck at responding to reviews, but I'd just like to say that every single review has meant SO much to me, and you guys are all super amazing. I hope the story lived up to your expectations! Maybe I'll come back for an epilogue or something, but if I don't... Review one last time? **


	59. Surprise!

**A/N: Hello again, dear readers. Since all my readers have always been so loyal to me, I wanted to let you know that I am officially retiring from FanFiction so I can work with more of my own characters. I also wanted to let you know about a story I'm writing on my Wattpad account (apprenticeofathena) so that if you like the stories I've written on here, you can look into it. It's a mystery, by the way, called Politically Incorrect. Here's a summary:**

****_Stella Harvey is America's sweetheart. At least, that's what she's been told. In a tragic accident, Stella lost the past five years of her memory, meaning she doesn't remember her dad's new wife, doesn't recognize her new makeover, and certainly doesn't have the slightest clue that her dad is the President of the United States of America. In an effort to remember, Stella begins to search for clues about the five years she's missing. Clues that lead her to shocking revelations about her past and even more questions. When did Stella become popular? What happened to her life in New York? And, most importantly, was the accident really an accident?_

__**If you're interested, it would mean SO much to me if you could check it out and comment. I posted a link to my Wattpad profile on my wall and would be so honored if you would check it out. Thank-you so much guys! Obviously I've never met any of you be for, but I'm sure gonna miss you now that I'm leaving FF! Mwa, mwa! **


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